


Security Blanket

by Eipos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Child Neglect, Depression, Diapers, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Happy Ending, Identity Porn, Infantilism, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Neglected Stiles Stilinski, Pacifiers, Peter Hale Needs a Hug, Plushies, Possessive Peter Hale, Soulmates, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, sexual age play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 12:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eipos/pseuds/Eipos
Summary: Stiles has had to step up once his mother died for fear that his dad would follow her by drinking too much.After years of Stiles doing every chores in the house, being a perfect student and the most responsible son (except at night when he cuddles with his stuffed bunny), his dad finally gets out of his mourning haze... only to plunge even deeper in the bottle. There's a murderer in Beacon Hills as well as werewolves and Stiles is barely able to keep his neck above water.He's lonely. He's starved for attention and affection. He's ashamed of himself. But he knows his purpose in life is the be a pillar. A pillar for his dad as he mourns and a pillar for Scott as his friend transforms into something else. No one cares about Stiles' well being.Until a mysterious werewolf with red eyes appears.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 294
Kudos: 986





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this idea in mind for some time and I had to write it. Just a few warnings first though, there will be AB/DL in this story. There is also some identity porn! So, you know, if you're a bit confused at the beginning, it was planned. Finally, there is angst in this story. Stiles is suffering with loneliness, self-hatred and some depression, though Peter will be there to make it all better, no worries ;)
> 
> I hope you'll like this story!

Stiles has a drawer in his room full of his old baby stuff. He honestly doesn’t know why he has his old blanket, stuffed plushies, toys and pacifier stuck in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. It probably has something to do with the leak they had in the basement when he was six. Or maybe when they were renovating part of the house after a break in the roof, which meant they had to put half of their stuff in weird places.

That doesn’t matter. Case point is that Stiles has a drawer full of baby stuff and he never tried to get rid of it. Quite the opposite in fact which, he knows, is weird. Still… there is a reason.

When his mom died, the shock was brutal. Stiles cried for weeks, breaking down every single time something reminded him of his mom. And his dad, well… his dad seemed to lose his will to live. Noah buried his grief in alcohol and tended to forget simple things, like making super or laundry.

Stiles got very scared. More scared than he was sad, because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing his dad too. So he wiped the tears from his face and, at the tender age of eleven years, he decided to take on the burden of responsibilities. He bothered his dad until the man would bring him to the grocery. He found cookbooks and tried his hands at recipes that weren’t too hard but that were healthy. He dragged baskets that were almost as big as him down the stairs so that he could wash all of their clothes. He got out the vacuum, a wet rag, a duster and multiple cleaning products to make sure that the house was neat every single week. He even took care of the lawn.

All his dad had to do was work at the station, pay the bills and bring Stiles to places when they needed stuff for the house. It wasn’t much and Noah seemed to benefit from the huge help Stiles was giving him, drinking less and less every night, though the haunted glimmer in his eyes never left.

It took a toll on Stiles though. He barely had time to himself and every time he could finally play… he felt too restless. He didn’t want to play video games because he was thinking about how the bath needed to be scrubbed. He didn’t want to call Scott over because who would make supper then? He didn’t want to watch the latest superhero movie because Stiles was scared shitless that his dad would fall into the bottle once again and freaking kill himself this time around.

Stiles had to become an adult way too early. And that is why… he never wanted to get rid of his baby stuff. Night was the only moment where he could finally calm down and just be. Almost every night, he opened his nightstand’s last drawer and he would peek at the stuff he had. Sometimes, when he was brave enough and when he was sure that his father wouldn’t come into his room, he would even drag his fingers through the soft fur of his old bunny plush and it would soothe him to sleep.

When he woke up in the morning, he would push every thought he had about his baby stuff away from his mind. It was a new day and he had a lot of stuff to do that were much more important.

Years passed in that fashion, never derogating from the new routine Stiles had set. Noah seemed to get better and better, though still too lost in grief and Stiles made sure that his dad didn’t have to worry about anything when the man had so much on his plate already. And while Stiles was pretty sure this wasn’t very normal behaviour for a teenager, he’d convinced himself that he was happy. Or at the very least content. The routine was comforting and no one was complaining, so why change anything?

***

Everything comes to a terrible crash when Stiles is sixteen. It’s six thirty in the evening and he has just finished eating his supper, fish and vegetables. It’s an evening where he’s alone because his father finishes his shift at nine, so he’s putting the rest of the food in tupperwares, making sure that his dad will have a portion for later in the evening and a lunch for tomorrow as well as a lunch for himself.

Stiles is about to start washing the dishes when he gets a message on his phone. He turns the water off in the sink and reaches for his phone in his jeans’ pocket. He clicks it open to find a message from his dad, the only one that sends him messages to be completely honest . He doesn’t really have friends, Scott having migrated to a new circle of friends though he does come see Stiles sometimes.

_ Aunt Sophia came back from China. She’s coming over Saturday for lunch with her kids _

The message is a surprise. Not sure that Stiles is happy though. He doesn’t have anything against Aunt Sophia, of course, from what he remembers, she’s kind and soft though a bit distant. It’s just that… well, she never came back from China to help her half-brother when Claudia died. She never even called or sent her best wishes or anything. Unless she contacted his dad when Stiles wasn’t there. It’s always a possibility.

Stiles rubs his forehead as he thinks about the implications of having guests over. Ever since his mom died, they haven’t had anyone over and Stiles isn’t exactly sure what he’s supposed to do. He definitely has to make sure the house is in order and he has to provide food too. Lunch. And maybe something to drink? Like lemonade. It’s nice enough outside for lemonade. And maybe little munchies for the kids if they’re hungry.

With plan slowly forming in his mind, Stiles quickly types a reply.

_ How many kids? And what time? _

The response comes relatively quickly, which probably means that Noah is having a slow night at the station.

_ Four. The eldest is eight and the youngest is six months old. They should get home around 11h _

That… surprises Stiles. Four kids? Isn’t Aunt Sophia in China? Where the number of kids are reglemented? Oh well.

_ Alright :) _

And with that, Stiles puts his phone back into his pocket and turns back towards the sink. As he washes the dishes, he thinks about his schedule. It’s Thursday, so Aunt Sophia is coming in less than two days. This puts a wrench in Stiles cleaning schedule. Normally, he does his cleaning Saturday morning and he’s done around 2pm. He can’t start cleaning tonight because he has a test tomorrow and he really needs to study if he doesn’t want to fail. Mr Harris always expects perfect answers, if not, he makes you lose points and Stiles… well Stiles doesn’t want to lose points. Grades are important. So he’ll have to start his cleaning tomorrow night and try to do as much as he can and then he needs to make food too for more than two mouths…

In all honesty, this is stressing Stiles. Too much to do and too little time. But Stiles is used to being stressed and he’s sure he can manage it. He always can.

Still, he starts scrubbing a bit faster, hoping he can cram in a bit of cleaning in his evening, even with his studies.

***

By Saturday morning, Stiles just wants for Aunt Sophia to come and go. He isn’t too sure that his test went well and he stayed awake late last night, trying to make sure everything will be perfect for the visit, while waking up early this morning to make food.

He’s tired, dead on his feet. When 11 o’clock comes, Stiles finds his father dressed in his best clothes, which is something Stiles hasn’t seen in a very long time. Stiles wants to make a comment, tell his dad how nice it is to see him dressed in clothes that aren’t pyjamas on his day off, but Stiles doesn’t really have the energy to and that’s when Aunt Sophia knocks on the door.

His dad opens the door and it’s like a tornado enters the house in the form of four loud children. Stiles is momentarily stunned, not understanding what’s going on, especially when the kids start babbling in a mix of chinese and english.

Aunt Sophia seems to ignore her exuberant children. If the grip she has on her youngest and if the dark circles under her eyes are a sign, they surely indicate how tired and overworked she is.

“Hi, Noah,” she sighs with a smile before hugging the man with one arm.

“Hey, Sophia,” Noah answers, the love clear in his voice. “How are you doing?”

Aunt Sophia nods slowly. “Tired, tired. But really happy to see you. Hi,  Mieczysław,” she then says to her nephew.

Stiles jumps in surprise. Her pronunciation is all wrong and it almost hurt his ears. He also realises that the last time he saw his aunt, it had to be before elementary school, because he doesn’t go by that name anymore.

“Hi, Aunt Sophia,” he says politely. “You can call me Stiles. I go by that. Easier to pronounce.”

Aunt Sophia smiles and nods and they then all move to the living room. Noah puts a movie for the kids to watch while he catches up with his half-sister. The conversation is pleasant and while everyone seems to be comfortable, Stiles quietly goes to the kitchen to grab glasses and the pitcher of fresh lemonade. He puts them on a tray so that he can also bring the two plates of munchies, one with vegetables and dip and the other one with crackers and ham spread.

As soon as he enters the living room with the food, the kids turn to him, cleary eager to eat a bit. Stiles carefully puts the tray on the coffee table as the three older kids stand from the couch and walk to him. They seem curious about the crackers and Stiles shows them how to take the knife and spread the ham on the cracker.

“Just like that,” he says as he shows the cracker to the two boys and little girl. He gives the food to the girl as she seems to be around three or four years old, so probably incapable of putting the spread on a cracker without breaking it.

The small girl smiles timidly at him and says a word, which he doesn’t understand, before stuffing the cracker in her mouth. Aunt Sophia, who had been talking to Noah all that time, turns to her daughter. “Mei, you know your cousin doesn’t speak chinese. You have to speak in english for him to understand. Now, what do we say?”

Mei turns to Stiles, making her pigtails jump with the movement. She smiles at him. “Thank you,” she says, her words heavily accented, but recognizable all the same.

Stiles can’t help himself but return the smile.

The kids, after having eaten their fill, sit back down to watch the movie, a glass of lemonade in their hands. Aunt Sophia and Noah also get a glass and eat a few munchies while still talking. At around 12h30, it’s clear that everyone is ready to eat lunch if the empty plates indicate anything so Stiles gathers all the glasses on the tray and brings it back to the kitchen. His fingers itch to start cleaning the dirty dishes, but he ignores the urge, filling instead a big cauldron of water and then putting it on the stove to boil.

Stiles feels grateful as he slips into a routine, making simple spaghetti for everyone. The recipe isn’t too hard and he’s pretty sure the kids are going to love it, even if they never had it before. He made the sauce earlier this morning, a quick version that only needed to simmer for barely a few hours. The saucepan with the mixture is still on the stove and still hot. So Stiles only need to keep stirring the sauce from time to time as the pasta boil in another saucepan.

All in all, it takes about twenty minutes for the food to be ready and Stiles invites everyone to follow him into the dining room. Once everyone is sitting, he brings the plates one after the other before sitting himself with his own plate.

As expected, the kids never had spaghetti and Aunt Sophia carefully puts her baby in Noah’s arms so that she can cut her three eldests’ food for them with Stiles helping her. She goes to take back her youngest son from Noah, but her half-brother gently shakes his head, indicating that he can hold him for the meal.

“Thank you,” Aunt Sophia whispers before digging into her food.

It’s silent for a bit as everyone eats their spaghetti, the kids are seemingly having a religious moment with how amazed they look, and Stiles is grateful for the small reprieve.

“Your house is amazing by the way. Very well maintained” Aunt Sophia eventually says as she twirls pasta around her fork. “I know with Claudia gone…”

Stiles feels happy to hear the compliment, but he hates the mention about his mom. He doesn’t let himself linger on the comment though, because fear rears its ugly head as he shoots a glance at his father. He’s scared that the mention of his mom is going to be too much for Noah. They haven’t talked about her for five years now, but his dad doesn’t seem sad. In fact, he looks surprised by the compliment. Noah takes the time to look around the room, probably noticing the lack of dust and the gleaming decorative plates hanging on the walls. His gaze falls briefly on his son before finally landing on Sophia.

“Oh, uh… yes.”

And Noah doesn’t say anything more. Stiles knows that his dad isn’t feeling comfortable with this conversation and so he tries to find a subject, any subject, to distract Aunt Sophia.

Thankfully, it isn’t necessary as the baby starts crying in Noah’s arms. Aunt Sophia immediately jumps up to take her son. “What’s wrong, Li Jie?” she asks in a silly voice.

Stiles takes the opportunity for what it is and stands up. “Do you need anything? For… for the baby?”

Aunt Sophia looks up. “Oh, he’s probably hungry. I left his bag in the entrance. If you could take his bottle, formula and a pacifier, I’d be really grateful. He’s also probably grumpy because he doesn’t have his pacifier,” she says as she turns to her baby, making silly faces. “Isn’t that right, Li Jie? You just  _ loooove _ your pacifiers but you keep losing them all the time, you little monster! You’re going to make me broke if you keep at it!”

Stiles doesn’t stay longer for more baby talk, happy to make his escape. He walks to the entrance and finds the bag his aunt was talking about. It’s a monstrous thing in all honesty, with way too many pockets. Stiles suddenly gets the impression that Aunt Sophia must be the one losing the pacifiers if she puts Li Jie’s things in there.

He opens pocket after pocket, never finding what he’s looking for until he finally unzips the bag. There, he finds a ton of diapers as well as the bottle and formula. He grabs those two items and then he finds about ten different pacifiers and Stiles… well, he doesn’t know why, but he takes the time to look at them.

They’re fun, he decides, with different designs and colors. They’re also very different from the one he still has in his drawer. He realises that the one he has, a purple one with a picture of Barney on it, must be dry because the nipple is very different from the ones in the bag. These have a soft beige color and they’re squishy unlike his one that is a dark brown color and much harder.

He keeps looking and that’s when he finds a blue pacifier that has Captain America’s shield on it. For whatever reason, something seems to grow hot in Stiles’ chest. He can’t explain why, but he finds this pacifier completely adorable. Way too cute. He hasn’t seen the movie, but he has seen the trailer and Captain America is bound to be cool. Stiles’ fingers twitch against the pacifier.

A loud screech from a chair in the dining room brings Stiles back to where he is, crouching in the entrance, where anyone can see him fondling the pacifier in his hand. In a fit of panic, he drops the pacifier, picking another one, and grabs the bottle and formula. He’s about to stand and go back into the dining room, but the blue pacifier is on his mind.

_ You just  _ loooove _ your pacifiers but you keep losing them all the time, you little monster! _

Aunt Sophia isn’t going to notice anything. With that barely comprehensible thought, Stiles bends down and quickly steals the blue pacifier and stuffs it into his pocket before leaving the entrance.

He doesn’t understand why he did that. Doesn’t think he wants to understand, so he pushes those thoughts as far away as he can.

That night, long after Aunt Sophia left with her kids, Stiles throws the new pacifier inside his drawer with all his other baby stuff and he forbids himself from rifling through it. What he did was stupid and he never should have stolen from his aunt, no matter if she would notice or not. He doesn’t need a pacifier. This was just plain stealing for stealing.

He feels like a horrible human being. A horrible, deeply embarrassed, human being.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next two weeks, Stiles lives life like always, going through his routines without knowing that something has changed since Aunt Sophia visited.

Today is a normal day. Stiles woke up, had a quick shower and he assembled his lunch as he ate his breakfast before leaving for school. The only unusual thing is the grade he got in Chemistry. 82% isn’t a bad grade he knows, but… Stiles isn’t happy. He’s always above 90% and the fact that he wasn’t able to keep his standards because of a visit… He’s really upset about it.

But he tries to push the grade out of his mind. If he’s able to score above 95% in the next few tests, his grades shouldn’t suffer too much. Better yet would be getting a few perfect scores, but… 82%...

Stiles wants to slap himself with how stupid he was. There’s nothing he can do though, so he ignores the paper that seems to burn a hole in his backpack. Part of him can’t wait for the day to end just so that he can be comfortable at home, but another part of him is dreading coming back home because it means nothing except a weekend of chores to distract him.

His misery must be obvious because Scott takes the time to come and see him at lunch period. “Hey, you okay, dude?”

Stiles looks up from his untouched sandwich to his childhood friend. “Oh,” he mumbles as he fidgets on his chair. “Yeah, yeah. I just… I got a bad grade.”

Scott, the awesome friend that he is, makes a grimace in sympathy. “Aw, dude, that sucks. Will you be alright? You know, there are study sessions in the library, right? They have tutors and shit to help you if you need it.”

Stiles feels a bit shittier. Scott has always been amazing, there for Stiles no matter what. Even now, he left his popular friends to come and talk to Stiles because Stiles is a stupid idiot that can’t do shit right. And here he is, listening to Stiles complain about bad grade when Scott has even more difficulty with school.

Stiles forces a smile though he feels like a strong breeze would make him break down. “Nah, I’ll be alright. I guess I should have studied more is all. Thanks though.”

Scott smiles one of his most genuine smiles. “You always did good in school anyway. A little setback isn’t going to affect you. In fact, I’m sure you’re going to get some awesome grades now that you have something to prove.”

Stiles nods though he doesn’t deserve those nice words.

“So,” Scott continues, sounding a bit more unsure. “Since it’s Friday and then the weekend, I was wondering if… you were free tonight? You know, just to hang out? You and me like old times? It’s been a long time since we last hang out…”

Stiles is tempted to say yes, because it’s true that it’s been a long time since they hung out. Stiles hasn’t really made time to see Scott since his mom died and he wants to just feel good for once with who used to be his best friend. But… as tempted as he is, Stiles can’t forget the fact that he lost stupid points in a test because he wasn’t prepared enough. It’s his fault and as much as he wants to have a good time, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He feels guilty for even wanting to forget school and home for a while. He needs to be on top of his game. He needs good grades and he needs to help his dad.

“I…” Stiles starts, feeling something painful, burning hot in his chest. “I don’t think I can. I’m so sorry. Maybe another time?”

Scott smiles at Stiles but it’s clear that the teen is sad. “Yeah, no. I understand. Maybe next time.” He then stands up from the table Stiles is sitting on, alone, and walks back to his friends.

Stiles sighs, feeling awfully lonely. He’s pretty sure he deserves it too.

***

Stiles arrives home at around 15h20, feeling completely wrung out. As soon as he closes the front door behind him, he drops his school bag on the ground and he slumps against the door.

His mind is completely blank. He just feels his heart, pulsing dully like there isn’t enough place for it to move like it should. His chest hurts, but he now feels numb enough in his pain that he doesn’t think he’s going to cry, which is something positive he guesses. He sighs loudly and he settles even more firmly into the numbness, making the world around seem more surreal. Or more distant.

Stiles thinks about going up to his room so that he can sleep it off. As bad as he feels right now, he knows from experience that he’ll feel better after a good night of sleep. But he has to vacuum the first floor, make supper and there’s dirty laundry. Plus, there’s another test next Friday and Stiles is going to study like his life depends on it.

So, ignoring how tired he feels, Stiles bends to take his backpack and he brings it up in his room, right next to his desk. He goes back downstairs and heads to the kitchen where he gets the ingredients for a beef stew out. Since it’s Friday, Stiles likes to make bigger supper for his dad and himself. That way, they have some leftovers for the weekend and it’s a way to have a nicer moment with his dad.

Stiles turns the radio right next to the microwave on and he hums under his breath with the songs that play as he chops his ingredient. The music and the repetitive movements help him let go of some stress from school. As he sets the ingredients in the crockpot, he can even say that he feels a bit better.

He’s washing his hands after having thrown away the odd bits of vegetables and the beef’s package when the front door opens and closes, indicating that his dad is back from work.

“Hi, kiddo,” Noah says from the entrance.

“Hey, dad,” Stiles answers as he shuts the water off. He’s drying his hands when his dad enters the kitchen, his lunch box in hand.

Stiles immediately goes to take the lunch box, expecting for it to be handed without fuss, but Noah just shakes his head as he walks to the sink. “I’ll take care of it,” he says softly as he opens the lunch box and pulls out a few tupperwares and utensils. “You started supper?”

Stiles nods, a bit surprised at the question. His dad never asks about the food. He just eats it, seemingly uncaring about the taste. If he  _ really _ likes it, he might make a vague appreciative sound but that was about it. “Beef stew.”

Noah frowns at the crockpot as he sets his empty lunch box aside. “Isn’t it early for supper?” he asks, eyeing the clock on the stove. It’s not even four in the evening.

But Stiles shakes his head. He’s starting to fidget where he stands, feeling a bit uneasy at all the questions his dad keeps asking. He doesn’t think he remembers his dad actually paying attention for so long when it doesn’t seem… important. “Nah, it needs to cook for two hours still.”

Noah nods absent mindedly. “Alright…”

The conversation seems to be over, so Stiles turns away from the kitchen. He goes up to the second floor and walks to the hamper in the corridor. Since it’s just the two of them, they divide the clothes in two groups, the darks and every other color, including white. He used to try and separate the whites too, but they didn’t have enough clothes between them to justify that decision.

Stiles opens the small closet just beside the hamper and gets a basket out. He pulls their dark clothing in it and then he lugs it down the stairs. As he walks in the hallway, he notices his dad sitting in his favorite armchair in the living room with the television on. Surprisingly, Noah doesn’t have a beer in his hand, which is very unusual. His doesn’t drink as much as he used to, but he always takes a beer in the evening.

The surprise makes Stiles halt for barely a second, but it’s enough to drag his dad’s focus on him. Noah looks at Stiles and the basket his son is holding and he frowns. “What are you doing?”

Stiles was about to continue on his journey to the basement where the washing machine is, but he halts a second time. For some reason, he feels uneasy again. Like he’s somehow doing something wrong. He doesn’t like the feeling. “Well, uh… laundry.”

Noah is still frowning, but he nods and turns back to the television as he rubs his hand over his mouth.

Stiles’ heart is beating fast for some reason and he feels shaky when he goes down into the basement. He’s a bit panicky he realises as he dumps the dirty clothes into the washer. His dad never really noticed before today everything Stiles does to keep the house clean. He was like a shadow in all honesty. But Stiles doesn’t mind working behind the scenes. Not when his dad makes him feel like he’s doing something wrong if he  _ does _ finally notice Stiles…

The teen sighs heavily as he pours detergent and then softener into the machine. He doesn’t feel good about the situation, but he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do about it. He decides to try and forget about everything.

Stiles leaves the basket besides the washer and goes back upstairs. There’s a small closet in the hallway near the kitchen and he opens it to pull out the vacuum. He tries to be a bit more silent than normally, but the long tube for the vacuum is very long and pretty much impossible to hold without it flailing everywhere, especially when trying to manipulate the vacuum itself at the same time. The tube seems abnormally loud as it falls on the floor and Stiles closes his eyes, cursing the damn thing. He crouches down on the floor and he connect the tube to the wall.

As he goes to stand, Stiles looks up and sees that his dad has left the living room. He’s now standing in the hallway and is staring at Stiles with something that looks like unhappiness. Stiles freezes.

“What are you doing?” Noah eventually asks after they’ve been staring at each other for a bit too long.

Stiles is still frozen. He successfully opens his mouth after three long seconds, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t  _ know _ what he should say. He feels like he should explain himself, but… this is stupid. There’s nothing to explain, right? They’ve been living like this for some time and, since his mom left, Stiles had to step in so that he could help his dad because the man had more than enough on his shoulders. What’s a little vacuuming?

“Uh… vacuuming. I’m vacuuming,” Stiles is able to say, because it’s the truth.

Noah looks at the ground between himself and his son as he crosses his arms. He looks very uncomfortable. “Stiles… It’s Friday. You’ve been to school all week. Don’t you want to relax a bit? You’ve already taken care of supper and laundry.”

Stiles looks down at the vacuum he’s still holding in his hand, over his knees. Right now, it feels like a security blanket, like it’s the only thing anchoring him. “But I need to vacuum,” he says like it explains everything and, in his head, it does but when he says it out loud, it sounds pitiful.

Noah sighs and he rubs a hand over his eyes. He then drops the hand and walks to Stiles. “Come on,” he says gently as he helps his son up. He takes the vacuum away, storing it back into the closet. Stiles feels bereft without the vacuum and it makes him feel pathetic.

“There’s still, what, an hour and a half before supper is ready?” Noah asks.

Stiles nods because he doesn’t think he can talk right now.

“Alright,” Noah agrees. “That leaves us with enough time to watch a movie. How about it?”

Stiles is frozen for a second time that evening. A movie… He doesn’t have  _ time _ for a movie. He hasn’t had time for a movie in… he doesn’t even know. What he does know though is that there’s no way his dad is going to take no as an answer. It’s clear in the way his dad’s jaw ticks.

So Stiles nods a second time, feeling like he is being punished, though he knows that doesn’t make any sense.

***

Stiles barely focuses on the movie. He feels like shit and when he’s able to move past that, he can only think about the damn dining room that needs to be vacuumed. It’s not the end of the world, he knows, because tomorrow is Saturday and that’s when he cleans the house from top to bottom, but still… He hates it when he sees dirt on the ground.

The movie ends and the crockpot dings to indicate that the beef stew is ready. Without a word, Stiles jumps to his feet and, thankfully, his dad doesn’t stop him. Stiles quickly walks to the kitchen, feeling liberated, and he pulls out plates and utensils as well as two placemats. Normally, he would have placed the table in advance and he would have cut some slices of bread too to go with the meal, but, well.

He takes a deep breath and puts the placemats and utensils on the dining room’s table and turns back to the kitchen. His dad is there and already filling his plate with beef stew. Stiles takes his own plate and waits for his dad to be done. 

Noah gives the ladle to his son and Stiles takes it without looking at his dad. Once they’re both set, they go the dining room and sit down. They eat in silence, which isn’t unusual for them. Stiles actually feels grateful for this little bit of normalcy. Today hasn’t been a good day and he’d like for it to end well if possible.

Noah is done eating faster than Stiles, though his son isn’t far behind. They both stand up with their plates and utensils, with Stiles bringing the placemats with him, and they go back to the kitchen. Stiles settle his dishes besides the sink, where there’s already other dishes from the rest of the day, and he takes a new rag, wetting it.

He’s busy wiping the placemats, so he doesn’t notice when his dad goes for the dishwasher. He does notice when he hears Noah opening it though. He looks up from his place on the counter and he decides to ignore the situation as his dad puts his dishes in the machine. When Noah starts putting all the other dishes that has been laying on the counter and sink though, he can’t stop himself.

“Uh… You can just leave it there,” Stiles tries to say nonchalantly.

Of course it doesn’t fly. Noah looks up as he places a bowl in the dishwasher. “It’s no trouble. I can do it. Why don’t you use the rest of your evening to do something fun?” he tries to say with a smile.

Stiles is tempted to accept his dad’s offer, just so that he doesn’t have to face another situation. But the part of Stiles that is a total neat freak can’t let this go. He clears his throat, knowing this isn’t going to go well. “Uh, it’s just… the dishwasher doesn’t work anymore? It doesn’t work well, I mean. Leaves stains.”

Noah gapes at his son and Stiles… well, Stiles feels like an idiot.

“What do you mean, it doesn’t work?”

Stiles shrugs, unsure about what his dad wants. He’s pretty sure that was pretty clear. “It just… It doesn’t work well. Like I said, it leaves stains. Even when I washed the worst off of the dishes, it still left stains. So… I just wash the dishes myself.”

Noah is still staring at his son, incomprehensive. “For how long?”

Stiles shrugs again. “I don’t know… Three years, maybe?”

At that, Noah throws his hands in the air before settling his eyes on Stiles once more. He looks like he’s in distress. “Why the heck didn’t you tell me? Stiles! I’ve been putting my dishes in there every single day! So you just… what? You pulled my dishes out every night to wash them by hand?”

Stiles doesn’t understand why his dad is making such a ruckus about this. It’s just dishes. So what if he had to pull them out of the machine? At least they weren’t in the way until Stiles was ready to wash them. And Stiles doesn’t mind doing the dishes, just like he doesn’t mind cooking. It’s soothing. “Well… yeah,” he finally admits.

“Oh my God,” Noah whispers, ashamed, as he puts his hands over his face. He takes a few deep breaths, clearly trying to compose himself.

Stiles waits, unsure about what he should do. Normally, he would try to comfort his dad, but he’s pretty sure his dad is angry with him.

“Goddamnit!” Noah sobs harshly and Stiles can’t stop himself. He hugs his dad. He doesn’t want his dad to feel bad. It always scares him when Noah is overly emotional, reminds him of the few days right after his mom died.

Noah was always happy before Claudia died. Always a smile on his lips, even when he was unhappy with Stiles for misbehaving. He was always fair and loving. So when his mom died and his dad broke down… it was unexpected. And scary.

Noah hugs his son even as he sobs quietly. He hugs him tightly and rocks them from side to side. “I’m sorry,” he eventually blurts out. “I’m so sorry, Stiles… I just… I didn’t notice how much you helped around the house until Sophia came for a visit. I hoped I was wrong, but I watched you in the last two weeks, and… damn it, Stiles. I haven’t been there for you like I should have.

“You’re… you’re always doing something in the house, because I’m not helping you. This isn’t normal. I haven’t seen you doing anything just for fun. Heck, you haven’t even gotten the playstation I gave you two Christmases ago out of its box!”

Stiles reels away from his dad, his eyes as big as saucers. Has his dad been looking through his stuff in his room? Did he see… Wait, no, this isn’t the issue here. “Dad, it’s fine. I don’t mind helping you around the house. It’s normal.”

But Noah is shaking his head. “No. No, it’s not normal, Stiles. I’m the parent here. I shouldn’t have started drinking. I should have helped you with homework or… or any issues you had with school and friends and girls, but I was too focused on my pain.”

Stiles doesn’t want to talk about this. He wants to go to his room and ignore that this conversation ever happened. What the fuck is it with today and bad emotions? “Dad, it really is alright. We’re family and I’m here for you. Can’t you see that? I  _ want _ to help. I want you to feel better.”

“And what about you?” Noah asks as he sets his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. “What about how  _ you _ feel? Stiles, I… I’ve been  _ neglecting _ you-”

“No,” Stiles interrupts harshly as he tries to step away from his dad. The man doesn’t let him though.

“I’ve been ignoring how you felt,” Noah keeps going on, determined to make things right again. Five years is more than enough for mourning. “I shouldn’t have left you on your own. God, you were eleven and I still worked night shifts… I was completely absent-”

“ _Stop_ _it_ ,” Stiles asks, begs.

It still doesn’t stop his dad. He’s on a roll. “And you’d just lost your mother and I was-”

“STOP IT!” Stiles yells as he pushes his dad’s hands away from him. He’s shaking and his head hurts and he feels like he’s going to puke. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

And with that, Stiles goes to the sink where the dishes are waiting for him. He needs something normal. Dishes are normal. So he takes the rag and starts scrubbing the two parts of the sink with soap.

“Stiles… what are you doing?” Noah asks in the heavy silence.

Stiles drops the rag and plugs the sink before turning the water on and adding soap. Bubbles form and Stiles almost feel hypnotised as he watches them. “I’m washing the dishes,” he says dully.

There’s another moment of silence and Stiles takes advantage of it by plucking a glass from the counter, submerging it into the soapy water.

“Stiles,” Noah says, his voice full of warning.

But Stiles ignores it. What can his dad do? Punish him for being too helpful?

He rinces the glass and leaves it in the second part of the sink to let it dry a bit. He takes another dirty glass, washes it, rinces it, lets it dry and repeat.

“Stiles,” Noah says again. When Stiles still doesn’t respond, he moves to pull his son away from the sink with a gentle hand. Stiles shrugs him off, but Noah isn’t so easily deterred. “Stiles, leave the damn dishes alone for a second!”

Stiles feels like there’s something wrong, like his entire world is crumbling to the ground. Like there isn’t enough air around him. Like there’s a predator chasing him. And he just… he feels tiny and powerless and the only thing he knows is that he can’t stop. He has to continue because that’s what’s keeping his family afloat. Without him, his dad wouldn’t be here. He would have died, drinking himself silly. He would have died, poisoning himself with bad food. He would have died, wasting away in his grief. So no. Stiles isn’t about to leave the dishes alone.

But then his dad curses and tries to forcibly pull Stiles away and Stiles trashes against the hold. He’s barely conscious about what’s happening, his body moving without his control. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

There’s a crash to Stiles’ left and he looks into the direction to find that there’s water and pieces of glass everywhere on the wall and floor. He’s taken aback, knowing full well that he’s the one that threw the glass. “I… I-I’m sorry…”

Stiles goes to pick up the mess he just made, but his dad stops him and, this time, Stiles lets him, feeling too guilty.

“It’s fine, Stiles. Just… sit down, alright?”

Noah slowly brings Stiles to the little table in the kitchen and he pushes his son unto a seat. Stiles follows the movement because he feels like his legs are about to give out on him. He also notices that he’s very sweaty. And his skin hurts, like he’s being stabbed with needles all over. He also can’t tell if he’s hot or cold, it’s just… oh God, he isn’t about to faint, is he?

He watches his dad as the man cleans the mess he made. His hearing and sight get all funky for a while. He can’t say for how long because he isn’t sure he’s completely there, but, eventually, his sight and hearing get back to normal. His skin doesn’t hurt anymore either, but he is incredibly tired. And completely drenched in sweat.

“Son… are you alright?” Noah asks, worried.

Stiles looks up to his dad, not having noticed him moving closer. “I… Yeah, I-”

He gets cut off when the phone to their house rings. Noah curses heavily, but with his job, he can’t just ignore the phone. He walks to the counter and grabs the device. “Hello?”

By the change of expression on his dad’s face, Stiles gathers that this is work related. He slumps in his chair, oddly relieved by the interruption. The relief flies away however when he hears his dad’s next words.

“You found  _ half _ of a dead body in the woods?” Noah asks, his voice full of disbelief.

Stiles is as surprised as his dad. A dead body? In Beacon Hills? He hasn’t ever heard about a murder ever since he was a kid. Does this mean there’s a killer on the loose in town?

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Noah finally says a while later. He ends the call and turns to Stiles, clearly torn. “Stiles… I’m so sorry. I have to go in. The Sheriff needs me. Will you be alright? Do you want me to call Melissa?”

Stiles blinks as he feels dread filling him. There was a murder in Beacon Hills… “No. No need for that.”

Noah purses his lips, looking worriedly at his son. “Are you sure? I don’t feel right leaving you alone.”

Stiles opens his mouth, about to reassure his dad that he’s alright, but then he thinks about something. Something that makes perfect sense to him right this moment. “Yeah, no. You’re right. I’ll call Scott over.”

Noah smiles, relief evident in his eyes. “Alright. I’ll call as soon as I can. Stay safe. And we’ll… we’ll talk some more, alright? About everything?”

Stiles nods because he doesn’t think he can do anything else. A few minutes later, his dad is out the front door and Stiles is on the phone with Scott.

“Hey, Scott. Look, I kind of changed my mind. I guess I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out?”

Scott seems overly happy to say yes to that. “Yeah! Sure, dude. Do you need me to bring anything over? What do you want to do?”

Stiles pretends to mull things over, but he knows exactly what he wants to do. What he  _ needs _ to do. “Just heard there’s half a dead body in the woods. Want to find the other half?”

Because he has to help his dad. That’s what he does, right? It seems like the most logical thing to do. And Scott, well, the amazing teen doesn’t say anything about how weird it is to go in the dark, chasing after dead bodies. He just agrees because he wants to hang out with Scott.

And that’s how Stiles ruins everything.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles is pretty sure there’s something wrong with him when he enters the forest with Scott. He’s had time to calm down from the argument he had with his dad and he kind of has been thinking about everything with a cooler head as he was driving to the edge of town.

The thing is, he always wanted to be good to the people important to him, no matter what it means to him. He loves too deeply and Stiles has a hard time knowing where the limit should be. He keeps pushing until it’s too much and… he guesses he can see his dad’s point of view. But he’s still torn because he can’t ignore what he thinks. He’s pretty sure that his dad wants to take a few responsibilities from his shoulders and Stiles… Well, Stiles doesn’t know what he would do without his responsibilities. His  _ life _ is his responsibilities. What does he have if he doesn’t have them? What would he do? Stiles would go nuts without them.

His thoughts keep going into circles, analysing everything that happened and everything that was said. He’s traipsing in the forest with his friends when he’s able to admit to himself that he might be overreacting right now, what with his need to go find half of the dead body. Like… honestly, why the heck is he in the forest with Scott? What the heck do they think they can do here that the police can’t? They just have flashlights and their phones and no signal. Best case scenario, they’ll be able to come back home without being found. Most likely scenario, they’ll get fucking lost. In the woods. With no signal.

Damn it. Stiles kind of hates himself. He might not be in the right state of mind and he might be angry with his dad, but what he’s doing right now is dangerous and stupid. His dad is a seasoned police man. He knows what he’s doing and Stiles, no matter how much he wants to protect his dad, he has to let the man do his job. It’s not like the killer is going to kill the entire station’s personnel. His dad is in good hands.

So with that thought, he turns towards his friend, ready to ask him if he wants to come back home. He’s even ready to open that freaking playstation that he never unboxed but, before he can say anything, they see the beam of a different flashlight and Stiles knows this means that the police is on them. With his dad. Who’s going to be disappointed in him.

As quick and as quietly as he can, he instructs Scott to hide himself. He also asks for Scott to go back home as soon as the way is clear, leaving the teen with his car keys.

“Be careful with Roscoe,” he whispers very seriously. “He’s a bit old and temperamental, but give him love and he’s going to run just fine, alright?”

Scott nods before taking a puff from his pump, his eyes big with worry. Stiles slaps him on the shoulder twice before walking away from Scott, making sure to look like he’s looking closely at the ground.

“Don’t move!” Stiles hears and he jumps up before holding his hands in the air to show that he isn’t armed.

The man that found him, Sheriff Cordova, sighs heavily before lowering his gun. “What are you doing here, Stiles?” he asks rudely.

Stiles laughs uneasily. He doesn’t really like Sheriff Cordova, especially because the man is a scary motherfucker. He never smiles and he frankly looks angry pretty much all the time. When he isn’t angry, he’s frustrated. So. Yeah. But the man really is dedicated to his job.

“Uh, I was looking for half a dead body? It sounded awesomely gruesome, so…” Stiles trails off when he notices that Sheriff Cordova isn’t listening to him anymore.

The man leans his head towards his walkie-talkie and pushes on a button. “Stilinski? Get your ass here. Your son decided to take a stroll in the woods.”

A few seconds later, Noah arrives and the look of panic he’s sporting is something that Stiles never wants to see ever again. Then, the panic turns to anger and anguish as he walks towards his son.

“I thought you said you would call Scott,” he accuses the teen.

Stiles winces. “Yeah… sorry. I just… I don’t know what I was thinking. Can I say in my defence that I was about to turn around because I realised how stupid I was being? I mean, I do get points for that, right?”

Noah sighs. “Please stop talking,” he demands. “I’ll bring you to my car and you’re going to  _ stay _ there, is that clear?”

“Yep. Yes. That is very clear.”

Noah rolls his eyes, but Stiles is actually kind of okay with how the night is ending. Honestly, it’s late, he’s so tired he could sleep while standing and he just wants to go back home. He’s pretty sure he has hit rock bottom and he can only go up from there.

Right?

***

Somehow, Stiles doesn’t get grounded, which is very surprising. But he thinks it’s because his dad feels guilty about the last five years and that… well, it just doesn’t bode well.

Stiles doesn’t want to linger on that as they finally get home. He’s way too tired to think about what his dad is planning. So as soon as he’s inside his house, he immediately goes to his room after having muttered a goodnight to his dad.

He barely takes the time to undress before sliding into the sheets of his very welcomed bed. He’s very close to falling asleep but then he hears his phone beeping once and Stiles becomes very awake.

Scott, he thinks. It has to be Scott. He grabs his phone from his nightstand and opens the device. His eyes squint in the presence of the light and then he reads the message.

_ I got bit by a wolf!!! _

Stiles sits up in his bed, completely shocked. Part of him is awfully worried for his friend because, shit, how could he have forgotten about wild animals? The other part knows there aren’t any wolves in California. Still, it might have happened too fast for Scott to have a good look at the animal.

_ Are you alright? D: _

The next message comes fast.

_ Yeah man. I got a vaccine against rabies for my job so I’ll be fine. Guess I’m just lucky the wolf wasn’t too hungry, right? _

Stiles sighs. If Scott is texting as much as he is, he’s perfectly fine. Still, Stiles feels guilty for dragging Scott into a fool’s chase. He types the next message after a bit of hesitance.

_ Do you want to meet up tomorrow? _

He’s supposed to clean the house tomorrow, but… he guesses it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he pushed the cleaning to another day. Not that his dad would let him do the cleaning by himself, he’s pretty sure. Noah might even mellow out a bit if Stiles tries to hang out with Scott.

_!!! Hell yeah, man! See you tomorrow! I’ll come and pick you up in the morning around 8 so that we can eat my mom’s pancakes! _

Stiles can’t help himself but smile at the message. Damn, but he remembers Melissa’s amazing pancakes. He’s truly excited about tomorrow for… for the first time in years, really.

_ Alright. See you tomorrow :) _

With that, Stiles closes his phone and he sets his alarm for tomorrow morning. Once everything is set, he settles back in his bed, a big smile on his face. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but… he’s still too keyed up. Still. He stays in bed and tries to relax.

An hour later, Stiles is still awake. It’s past midnight and he’s getting frustrated. He could get up, maybe go downstairs for a glass of water. But he’s comfy in his bed and he’s had an overly emotional day. He just wants to fall asleep.

If he’s being honest with himself, he knows what he needs to feel better. To feel soothed. He just… He doesn’t understand why he has this weird and borderline inappropriate need. Still, he knows it works and he needs to be up early in the morning.

With a deep breath, Stiles crawls closer to the edge of his mattress and he leans to his nightstand’s bottom drawer. He casts a quick glance at the door, making sure it’s shut before opening the drawer. He quickly grabs his bunny plushie and, on second thought, he also takes the pacifier he stole from Aunt Sophia before shutting the drawer.

He leans back on his bed with the bunny safely tucked in his left elbow. He gently rubs his cheek against the soft fur of the toy as he examines the pacifier more closely. He likes the bright colors he decides. It actually makes him feel better just looking at them. There’s also a small sort of hook where Stiles is pretty sure you can put a ribbon and clip so that it’s harder to lose the pacifier…

And the rubber… It’s so nice and squishy. Stiles puts the nipple on his lips to feel the rubber and while there’s a part of him that’s really curious about actually putting the thing in his mouth, he knows that that would be crossing a line. A line that he knows he can’t cross. So he satisfies himself with just the feel of it on his lips and it’s… it’s nice. Just like the bunny’s fur is nice against his face.

Stiles closes his eyes and buries his head in the toy, feeling something settle inside of him. He doesn’t think about his failed test, the disastrous evening he had with his dad or the weird walk in the wood where his only friend got hurt. He doesn’t think about responsibilities and the control he craves like a mad man. He just thinks about the fuzzy feeling against his skin and the contentment and the peace that it brings him.

He falls asleep just like that.

***

The next morning, Stiles is very embarrassed to find the bunny and pacifier in bed with him after having woken up from his alarm blaring at him. He quickly hides the baby stuff and then he takes some clean clothes before jumping to the bathroom and into the shower.

Thirty minutes later, he’s had time to wash himself, brush his teeth and brew a nice cup of coffee. He regrets washing his teeth before the coffee, but then he had time for the divine drink, so he sucks it up.

“Good morning. Going somewhere, kiddo?” Noah asks blearily as he joins his son in the kitchen.

Stiles, who had been looking out the window for any sign of Scott arriving, jumps up and turns. “Oh, hey. Morning. Yeah, actually, I… well, I texted Scott last night to know if we could meet up. Her mom is making pancakes. Is that… alright?”

Noah smiles at Stiles. “It’s fine,” he says as he makes his way to the coffee pot. He takes a mug from the cupboard and pours coffee into it. “I’m not going to lie, I’m glad you’re hanging out with Scott again…”

“But?” Stiles asks, hearing the word hanging in the air.

His dad sighs heavily. “But we really need to talk, you and I. I… I haven’t been a parent for you in the last five years and I really want to make it up for you. You’re my son, Stiles. I love you. So much. And I’m very proud of you.”

Stiles clutches his mug between his hands. He knew that, of course he knew that his dad loved him and was proud of him. It just… He knew, but he hasn’t  _ felt _ it in the last few years. Emotions come crashing in, disturbing the nice morning he was having. Part of him is truly happy to hear those words but another part resents his dad for waiting all this time before saying anything.

All that mixed with the awful day he had yesterday is too much for Stiles. He doesn’t think he’s ready for… whatever his dad wants. And he can buy a few days of peace before plunging into the freaking black hole he filled with every freaking emotion he has pushed away since his mom’s death. He deserves a few days.

“I don’t… I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Stiles says, careful to be very clear, though he keeps his eyes on the driveway in the window. “I know you want to… like, fix… whatever. But. I just. I want a few days, okay? I’m going to Scott’s today and I want to have fun without worrying about anything and that’s already a big step for me, yeah?”

Silence meets his short monologue and Stiles is a bit afraid that his dad is going to push the issue. Thankfully, he doesn’t. Noah simply sighs and nods.

“Alright. You have fun with Scott today,” his dad agrees as he leaves his untouched mug of coffee on the counter. He approaches his son and extends his arms. “Can I just have a hug?”

And now, how can Stiles refuse that? He leaves his own mug on the counter and jumps into his dad’s arms, having missed those hugs. By how tightly Noah is hugging him back, he has to believe that the man missed those too.

“I love you too,” Stiles can’t help himself but say.

Noah’s breath stutters, like he’s laughing humorlessly. “I know, kiddo. I know.”

They stay like that until they hear a car engaging in their driveway. They disentangle to see Stiles’ car with Scott at the wheel through the window.

“So you didn’t call Scott last night?” his dad asks, clearly not believing a word, as he takes a sip of coffee.

Stiles hunches his shoulders, knowing that he wasn’t being subtle at all. “See you tonight!” he says as he leaves the kitchen and his dad behind. The teen hears his dad chuckle all the way to the entrance, where Stiles puts on his shoes and then promptly leaves the house.

“Hey, Scott!” Stiles says as the front door closes behind him.

Scott smiles and gets out of the vehicle. He hands the keys to Stiles once they’re near each other. “Hey, dude. You didn’t get into any trouble, did you?” Scott asks, all worried. “I kind of forgot to ask last night, but I was feeling all weird and I was feverish all night.”

Stiles gaps at his friend as his hand closes around the keys, not really noticing his move. “Oh shit! No, hey, it was fine on my side. You sure you’re alright though? I can just drive you home if you want to rest or something.”

But Scott shakes his head. “Nah. I’d have called you if I still felt bad. I feel… I feel really good actually.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asks, not sure he’s completely convinced.

Scott shoots a glance at the kitchen window where Noah is looking at them before mock punching Stiles on the shoulder. “Yeah, I’m really good. I just have to show you something afterwards.”

Stiles cocks his head but doesn’t say anything. He simply gets in his car on the driver’s side, Scott in the passenger's seat, and he drives off to his friend’s house.

***

After eating the most divine pancakes in the whole world, Stiles finds himself with Scott in his friend’s bedroom. They got talking as they were eating and Scott really wanted to show this new game he absolutely loved on the Xbox. So here they were. The topic, which Scott seems passionate about, derails Stiles for some time until he remembers that Scott wanted to show him something earlier and he’s sure it wasn’t a video game.

“Uh, wait,” Stiles interrupts Scott. “You said you wanted to show me something.”

Scott looks confused as he pulls the video game’s cover closer to his friend.

Stiles rolls his eyes though his smiling. He had forgotten how damn funny Scott can be sometimes when he’s confused. Which happens quite often. “No, no. I mean earlier, when we were at my house.”

“Oh!” Scott says, clearly remembering the moment. He jumps to his feet and quickly goes to close the bedroom’s door before returning to his spot on the floor. He looks at Stiles, a frantic but determined look in his eyes. “So, I got bit yesterday, right?”

Stiles nods because that’s what Scott texted him.

“Right, so, like. I waited until there was no one in the woods before walking. But there were dears and then I lost my pump and then I literally found the dead body, man!”

Stiles is pretty sure he’s gaping. “What? What did it look like?”

Scott grimaces. “I don’t know, dude. It was a girl. She looked… She barely even looked like a human, you know? Like, it was the top half of a mannequin or something…”

Sensing that Scott is getting disturbed by the conversation, Stiles cuts it short. It’s understandable, really. They hadn’t really thought they could find the body after all. “Okay, yeah, sorry. So what happened then?”

“So, I find the body and I really just want to go home at this point. When I turn around, I find this huge wolf staring at me and it looks… it looks like it’s fucking mad. I try to run because I know that, even if I stay, I’m freaking meat, man. But I’m not fast enough of course and he bites me just there,” Scott says as he points to his waist.

“I don’t even know how I get back to your car, but then I go back home and treat my wound. Like… I had to. There was blood everywhere on my clothes and it hurt! So, I bandage the thing, make sure it’s nice and clean and go to sleep.

“I had a fever all night, but when I wake up this morning, I’m fine. I look at my bandage and it’s soaked with blood. I have to get it off and put another, right?”

Scott is clearly looking for a response, so Stiles nods because, as fantastical as this sounds, he’s still following his friend.

“I take it off and, get this, there isn’t a wound.”

“What?” Stiles immediately asks. That doesn’t make sense.

“I know! I thought I was going crazy, but I still have the bandage and the clothes!” Scott says as he lays down on the floor to grab something under the bed. He pulls everything towards him and Stiles can see the clothes Scott was wearing yesterday, all soaked in blood, as well as the bandage.

“Holy shit,” Stiles breathes out. It’s… It’s a lot of blood. The bite had to be deep if Scott bled out this much. No way it healed overnight.

“You believe me?” Scott asks, looking a bit worried his friend is going to think he’s crazy.

Stiles would be tempted to think that Scott is pulling his leg or something since the situation is so weird. But he knows Scott. The guy is painfully honest and he’s a bad actor. There’s no way he’d be able to pretend being this confused and worried over a prank. And the blood… that would be cruel if it were a joke. “Yeah, I believe you… you said a wolf bit you?”

Scott nods, his face a bit more white than normal. “Yeah. It was… it was  _ huge _ , man. Bigger than the dears.”

“And you’re… you’re sure it’s a wolf?” Stiles asks. “I do believe you. I believe you, dude, but… there isn’t any wolf in California…”

Scott has this stubborn tilt to his jaw but he does look like he’s thinking. “It was a wolf. I’m sure of it.”

Scott seems so certain… And, heck, there’s bloody clothes as proof that something happened, so why wouldn’t Stiles believe that also? “Okay, man. At this point, anything is possible. You’ll tell me if there’s anything else that pops up?”

Scott nods with a smile, looking so damn relieved that Stiles believes him. “Yeah, definitely. I think you’re the only one that wouldn’t think I’m crazy… You’re a really good friend, Stiles.”

Stiles smiles at the compliment though he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t believe he has been a good friend to Scott. He has been ignoring the teen way too many times, stuck in his own bubble of misery. But Scott? Scott is the best friend anyone could have. Present, even if Stiles had been pushing him away for years.

“So what was the game again?” he asks to distract Scott and Scott picks up the change of topic without batting an eye.

***

The next few days are… relatively peaceful. Scott and Stiles keep in contact, messaging each other throughout the weekend about trivial things. Stiles is kind of glad to have his friend back in his life. As for his situation at home, well…

It’s delicate between Noah and Stiles. Better, because Noah hasn’t even drunk so much as a drop of alcohol in three days and because the man has been paying more attention to his son. Stiles… mostly likes the changes. He never liked seeing his dad drinking his pain away. It always made him feel like he’d failed his dad or something. And as much as he used to hope his dad would be more present of him, in reality, it’s a bit too much.

Stiles is used to being alone, being lonely in reality, and while it hurts feeling lonely, he’s used to it. It’s Stiles’ routine. He’s used to doing what he wants when he wants and now… he has his dad breathing down his neck, which is truly annoying, despite the many heartwarming hugs. Now, Stiles  _ hoards _ those hugs. But he isn’t used to his dad asking him what he’s doing all the time. Telling him to stop whatever he’s doing to do something else. It irks him.

Sunday morning is a perfect example. Breakfast was nice, the food already cooked when Stiles came down and the coffee freshly brewed. But then, Stiles wanted to get on with cleaning and, damn, if he didn’t have to fight his way through to his dad. In the end, he had to compromise and get his dad to help him.

It got clear quite fast that Noah is rusty in the cleaning department. Stiles cringed at all the corners his dad forgot to do and tried to fix the mess. Of course, he was caught and told to leave it be. And then, his dad told him no more cleaning at midday.

Stiles has to grit his teeth. There’s still so much to do. Like washing the floors. And going through the refrigerator. And dusting their bedrooms.  _ And clean all the fucking corners that were forgotten _ . But his dad is making an effort for Stiles. And, for whatever reason, it seems to be important for his dad that Stiles stops doing as much as he’s used to in the house.

So, with great pain, Stiles is trying to let some things go. But it isn’t easy. In fact, it stresses him. He’s twitchier than normal and he’s distracted all the time, barely able to focus on his dad and whatever activity they’re both doing for ‘fun’. Which is watching boring television.

Honestly, he’s so jittery that the only thing able to calm him enough for him to sleep is his stuffed bunny, which… Stiles doesn’t want to think about. It’s a small comfort he’ll need to grow out of.

Once Monday comes, Stiles is so happy to leave the house and his many frustrations behind for a few hours that he actually arrives early to school. Like, way too early. Stiles doesn’t worry about it, however. Instead, he heads over to the library so that he can study for his next test in chemistry, like he wanted to do this weekend. Being able to finally do what he wants and what he thinks is right without anyone to run interference is a huge relief. Having complete control calms Stiles, makes his stress ebb away for the first time without having to resort to children’s toys, which is truly reassuring.

Stiles is in a good mood. A really good mood. It all goes down the drain when he finds Scott in their first class of the day. The bell hasn’t rung yet, so Stiles goes to see his seemingly sick friend.

“Hey,” Stiles says as he stands right beside Scott’s desk. “You okay, man?”

Scott’s skin is whiter than normal and his eyes seem too big on his face. He looks… a bit terrified in all honesty. “I… I don’t know,” the teen whispers. “I feel weird… But good?”

Stiles doesn’t know what he’s supposed to get out of that answer. It worries him. But Scott doesn’t seem to be dizzy or sweaty or in pain. His breathing is normal too. Really, except for the paleness and the facial expression of bewilderment. “You sure?” he has to ask.

At the same moment, there’s a girl that passes by them on her way to her desk and Stiles gets a whiff of her parfum. The scent isn’t too pleasant, too strong, but while Stiles ignores it completely because that’s the kind of thing that happens sometimes, Scott starts coughing heavily.

Stiles is used to Scott having fits with his asthma, and while coughing doesn’t always lead to an attack, it can also easily become problematic. “Do you need your pump?” he asks when the fit lasts a bit longer than he’s comfortable with.

Scott shakes his head as he finally settles down, breathing through his mouth with an expression of disgust on his face. “God, who the fuck puts that much perfume?”

Stiles shrugs uneasily. It’s true that it wasn’t particularly pleasant, but it wasn’t that horrible either. Before Stiles can find anything to say, the bell rings and Stiles has to walk back to his desk.

***

After the event in their first class, Stiles decides that he should stick close to Scott just to keep an eye on his friend. Scott, he notices, is very twitchy today, which is very unusual for him. The guy is normally very laid back and calm, even in the moments where it’s clear he’s excited about something.

But today? Today, Scott seems barely able to sit down. Stiles notices that Scott keeps looking away. At Jackson that’s tapping his pen against his desk. At Greenberg that clears his throat. At anyone that makes a sound, really.

It’s weird. Especially when Scott gets a pen out for the new girl without her even asking. So Stiles decides to be a good friend and stay close to Scott. The other teen seems to be happy that Stiles decides to eat lunch with him and his gang of popular friends. Jackson makes mean comments about not wanting a loser at his table but Stiles doesn’t have any trouble ignoring him.

By the end of the day, Stiles is pretty sure that he has a few ideas about what’s happening. He can’t really talk to Scott to confirm what he thinks he knows because the teen is always surrounded by at least another friend and also because school doesn’t seem to be the place to have this conversation.

Stiles snorts at himself. Yeah. No way is he going to ask Scott if his sense of hearing and smell has changed to… to supernatural levels where someone could potentially overhear them. That’s crazy talk. But… Stiles is pretty sure he’s right. After all, Scott did heal overnight from a wound that should have taken weeks to heal at the very least. So something is happening to Scott.

Stiles ponders this over as he gets his school bag out of his locker. It’s the end of the day and he’s preparing to go back home when Scott appears besides him with a big smile on his face, though he does look a bit hesitant. “Hey,” Stiles says to put his friend at ease.

Scott adjust the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder as students mile around them. “Hey. So. Are you going home?”

Stiles notices how Scott seems a bit nervous and he gets the feeling that his friend might want to talk to him too. “I was planning to, but I don’t have anything tonight, so… I can do whatever.”

The teen smiles again. “Nice. So, I’m kind of trying out for lacrosse. Do… do you want to go to the tryout too?”

Stiles isn’t going to lie. This wasn’t what he was hoping he would hear from Scott. Lacrosse? Really? Stiles isn’t the sport type. He does Phys Ed and that’s… that’s enough. He’s a klutz. Why the heck would he want to be on the field where he’s bound to get a broken bone? Or injure other people? No. No dangerous sports for him. “I don’t think…”

He can’t finish his sentence when he see how disappointed Scott looks. Damn him. That kicked puppy look is lethal. He takes the time to truly think it over, and while he’s a hundred percent sure he doesn’t want to try out for lacrosse, he knows he can compromise a bit. “I don’t want to do the tryout, but I can be in the bleachers? I’ll drive you home afterwards and we can hang out or something?”

Scott seems pleasantly surprised by the proposal and then he beams at Stiles. “Okay, yeah. Thanks, Stiles. I’ll just text my mom to tell her you’ll come over for supper, yeah?”

Stiles nods and watches as Scott leaves him and heads towards the locker rooms. In all honesty, Stiles isn’t being as kind as he sounds. Sure, he wants to hang out with his friend, but he also wants to be alone with Scott to ask him a few questions and he’s pretty sure analysing Scott while he’s on the field will help him with his observations since he won’t have to try and pay attention to anything else but Scott.

His mind made, he picks his backpack and fills it with the books he’ll need for homework and studying. He closes his locker, swings his school bag on his shoulder and quickly gets out of the school, weaving his way through the throng of students.

Once out, he walks to the lacrosse field and goes to sit on the bleachers. He finds that there are already a few people seated, including Lydia and the new girl, Allison. And while there really aren’t that many people, they all seem to prefer sitting at the back of the bleachers. This suits Stiles, leaving him plenty of place nearer to the field so that he’ll be able to have a closer eye on Scott.

It takes a few minutes for the coach and the players to come out on the field. Meanwhile, Stiles has taken out his chemistry textbook and started studying. He only looks up once he hears the boisterous voice of Coach Finstock as the man gives instructions for a few warmups.

At that point, Stiles keeps half an eye on Scott as the teen runs laps around the field and the other on his books. As more time passes however, Stiles gets more and more astonished and all thoughts about chemistry leave his head. Is it him, or is Scott ahead of everyone else?

With his asthma, Scott has to be careful with how much he pushes himself. He never was able to run as fast as he possibly could, for fear that he’d go to the hospital because of a bad attack. But right now… Scott doesn’t seem to have any trouble, and when Coach tells the players to stop running a few minutes later, Scott doesn’t even seem to have worked a sweat.

Stiles puts his elbows on his knees and rests his jaw over his fists as he focuses more fully on his friend. Sure, he wanted to see his friend in action to further analyse him, but, somehow, he never thought there would be… this big of a change. What does this mean? Is Scott cured from his asthma? It shouldn’t be possible, Stiles made his research when he was younger and he knows there’s no cure to asthma. You can only control the symptoms and Scott… well Scott’s symptoms can get quite alarming so this doesn’t make any sense. Just like him healing from the bite or his enhanced senses.

This is truly fascinating, Stiles can’t help but think. But it’s also terrifying in the sense that Scott’s predicament is new and completely unknown. It’s… uncontrolled. And Stiles can’t leave his friend like this, without any answers to what the fuck is happening to him.

With this thought in mind, Stiles fishes a notebook out of his backpack as well as a pencil. On a new page, he writes everything he noticed about Scott since the bite and, in a section bellow, he writes a few hypothesis about what could be happening to his friend.

Meanwhile, Coach Finstock divides the players into two groups and starts a game after a blow of his whistle. Scott is in the blue team as a defenseman because that’s the position he has always been trying for, taking his asthma into consideration. So far, he hasn’t been able to touch the ball since his team is so strong in attack.

After fifteen minutes of the blue team beating to red team to the ground, Coach Finstock blows his whistle a second time. “Let’s shake things up, cupcakes!”

The coach divides the teens into two teams once again but with differents players, making the teams more evenly matched. Scott is still in the blue team but in attack this time around. Stiles leans forward, sensing that he’s going to see something mind blowing for the nth time today.

Coach Finstock blows his whistle to start the game and, somehow, in a move too quick for the eye to follow, Scott scoots the ball up and runs to the goal. Every player from the red team scrambles after Scott, not having expected the teen to be this fast. Before Scott can score, however, Jackson plows into the teen and steals the ball, leaving Scott on the ground.

From where Stiles is sitting, he can see that Scott is mostly okay. At any rate, his friend isn’t having trouble breathing and he doesn’t seem to be in pain. He looks like he’s mad as hell though and that is a strange sight to see, considering that Scott has to be the most mellow person Stiles has ever met. Should he write anger issues in his lengthening list of stuff wrong with Scott?

Stiles is about to look down at his notebook to write his new observation when he notices that Scott is already standing up and running to chase after Jackson. His movements, Stiles notices, are jerky, like he’s tense from too much anger. Scott runs and he runs  _ fast _ , catching up to Jackson in mere seconds, but he still appears too late as Jackson has already thrown the ball in the net, marking a point. Scott doesn’t seem to notice this until the last second, barely stopping himself from colliding with Jackson.

Well… this is more alarming then having better senses and a super healing ability. Stiles adds ‘anger issues’ on his list and underlines it as his leg starts jumping up and down. He brings his focus on Scott once more.

The ball is brought back to the center of the field. Coach Finstock blows the whistle and Scott scoops the ball once again but Jackson is able to steal the ball before Scott can start running.

Stiles sees Scott smile, or is it really a smile? The expression is similar to an angry animal in all honesty. Stiles can’t think more over the issue because Jackson starts running past Scott and Scott freaking  _ flips in the air _ , landing in front of Jackson. Scott steals back the ball, runs and scores.

This is  _ madness _ .

Stiles is completely astonished. Scott doing a backflip? Doesn’t make any sense. The guy could barely run a few days ago and now he’s doing acrobatics with momentum that technically shouldn’t be enough to actually succeed?

This is worrying. But what Stiles finds worrying, the coach finds impressive. So, at the end of tryouts, Coach Finstock is proud to announce that Scott made first line. Scott beams, happy to finally having made the team.

And Stiles? Well, Stiles frowns, already thinking about every measures he’s going to have to take to find answers and help his friend.

***

Derek has kept an eye on Scott McCall throughout the whole school day from a distance and he now watches the lacrosse tryouts from the woods. Scott McCall is a freaking mess, he finds, displaying his werewolf traits without a care in the world, and Derek almost wants to leave the teen on his own. Almost.

It’s just that he’s still mourning his sister and taking Scott McCall under his wing seems to be too big of a task at the moment. The teen doesn’t even seem to care that he isn’t acting like a human anymore. He doesn’t even seem to  _ realise _ that something is wrong. It’s the kind of stupidity that Derek just… just… has a hard time dealing with. He just hates it when people voluntarily put others in danger by being so ignorant about their own actions.

Derek knows how ironic he’s being. That is the exact same behaviour he had regarding Kate and it destroyed his entire family. He hates the reminder Scott brings him. He doesn’t want to think about his dead family. But it’s exactly because these memories are brought back up that Derek knows he’s going to help Scott as much as he can so that the teen doesn’t make the same mistakes he did. And also because, well, he’s lonely as fuck and he doesn’t have a pack anymore.

Still. This isn’t going to be easy. Derek is pretty sure that Scott’s and his personality are going to clash. Derek knows he’s a calm, responsible person. He prefers quiet and the small but important moments. Scott is flashy, all bright smiles and insouciance.

And Scott’s personality shines right through when the teen backflips in front of everyone. Great. Derek rolls his eyes, already knowing Scott McCall is going to be a headache. But as he looks back at the field, his eyes trail off towards the bleachers. There, he sees Stiles Stilinski, who seems to be Scott McCall’s best friend.

The guy seems… smart. Really smart. Derek noticed throughout the day that Stiles has been keeping an eye on Scott. Especially now, for the tryouts. Stiles seems perplexed and a bit worried by his friend behaviour. He keeps writing down what Derek thinks are observations and he knows without a doubt that Stiles will find out Scott’s predicament if he gives the teen enough time.

Part of Derek wants to put distance between the two teens so that Stiles doesn’t get a chance to discover what’s happening to Scott. This part of Derek is the one that has issues with humans, scared that they’re going to try and kill all werewolves.

The other part of Derek, the bigger part, thinks that he can maybe use this friendship for the better. The teen is knowledge driven, that has been made clear. If Derek can’t seem to come through with Scott, maybe giving information to Stiles is the way to go. Scott would surely be more willing to listen to his friend than him?

If Derek can stand the spastic teen, of course. He isn’t too impressed by Scott McCall and he is less so with Stiles Stilinski. While the teen is undeniably smart, he’s twitchy, mouthy and plain awkward.

Still. The key to helping Scott might be by having someone acting as a bridge between him and Derek, and he will do everything necessary to reach his goal.

By the end of tryouts, Derek has the start of a plan forming in his mind. He will have to speak to one of the teen, preferably Scott, but Derek will take any opportunity that appears first.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter! It sets a few things in motion ;)

After the tryouts, Stiles brings Scott back to the McCall house and they eat the delicious lasagna Melissa left for them before turning to the television in the living room to play some games. For a long while, Stiles doesn’t say anything, unsure how he should address the subject.

But, eventually, it’s dark outside and Stiles knows that he has to go back home soon and if he doesn’t talk with Scott now, then Scott will have more time to deny everything that’s happening to him.

So when there’s a break in their game, Stiles puts his controller down and turns to face his friend. Scott pauses the game and looks at Stiles, his confusion and apprehension clear on his face.

Stiles clears his throat and without further ado, jumps into the subject. “Okay, so… I kind of have been keeping an eye on you today…”

Scott rolls his eyes and turns back to the television, starting the game once again. Stiles isn’t fooled though. Scott isn’t trying to be rude, he’s just… scared of what Stiles has to say. “I made a list of what I saw and it looks like your senses have become stronger.”

Scott scoffs but the sound is very unconvincing. It doesn’t hide his anxiety at all. “That’s crazy.”

“As crazy as your wound healing overnight?” Stiles asks.

Scott freezes before turning the game off and facing Stiles properly. He drops his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, looking like a chastised puppy. “Okay, yeah… You’re right.”

Stiles nods and continues. “So… I also noticed that you don’t seem to be having trouble with your asthma. You were running like crazy at tryouts and you didn’t even seem to put in any effort.”

“Yeah?” Scott asks with a smile tugging at his lips. “I did pretty good, right?”

“Scott,” Stiles, the warning clear in his voice. “Look, I’m really happy for you that you made first line, but you have to focus here.”

Scott seems to shake himself as he straightens himself. “Sorry, you’re right. So… my asthma. It’s true that I didn’t have any problem breathing today. Or since Friday actually. I kind of freaked out when I couldn’t find my pump, I think I left it in the woods, but I haven’t had to use it since, so…”

Stiles feels his eyebrows shoot up in his surprise. “Really? No problem since Friday?” His friend nods. “Scott… I don’t want to pull your hopes up, but… what if whatever happened to you actually… cured your asthma?”

Scott doesn’t say anything but by the way his shoulders relax and his face softens, Stiles can see that a weight has lifted from his friend’s shoulders. This illness truly has been bothering the teen, Stiles knows. As someone that can only watch from the sidelines, he knows he can’t really understand what Scott is going through, but to see this reaction… Stiles has been underestimating how much it troubled Scott.

“You think?” Scott asks, his voice tiny.

Stiles shrugs uneasily. “I’m not sure, but… You haven’t used your pump in a few days and you were very active today. There’s no cure to asthma, but… you’ve been doing impossible things all day, so who knows?”

Scott seems to think for a few seconds before beaming. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I noticed a few things, you know? Like, I can see in the dark now and smell everything. And my hearing! Dude, I can hear your heartbeat from here!”

At that, Stiles feels his jaw drop. Seeing in the dark? Hearing his fucking heartbeat? That’s more than he thought! “Holy shit… Okay, wait a second, I’ll get my notebook.”

With that, Stiles stands up and makes his way to his bag in the entrance. He retrieves his notebook as well as a pen and heads back to the living room. He sits down on the couch besides Scott and opens his book to the right page where he adds the new information.

“Okay, so seeing in the dark and hearing heartbeats. Is there anything else you noticed?” Stiles asks.

Scott takes a few seconds to think it over and shrugs. “I don’t know… I guess I’ve also figured that I’m… stronger? Than before?”

Stiles nods and adds the little tidbit. It’s not something that surprises him. He did see Scott doing a backflip like it was nothing. “Okay… anything else?”

Scott bites his lower lips and hesitates. “Hum… I might… have chased the mailman away? Like, I don’t think he noticed or anything, but I felt like… Like I didn’t want him near here.”

Stiles tilts his head as his heart starts pounding. This reminds him a bit of how he was with Jackson, how angry he seemed to be. “Like you didn’t want him near here… You mean your house? Like… your territory?”

“Ugh,” Scott groans as he rubs his hands over his face, not denying it. “Don’t say it like that! It sounds so…”

“Primitive?” Stiles proposes because it sure as heck sounds like Scott has gained some… animal instincts. Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like. He writes it down as Scott keeps squirming.

“Whatever. It makes me sound like a caveman!”

Stiles nods his head as he looks at his notebook. Pieces of the puzzles are starting to make sense. The last piece, the animal instincts, it just… it rings a bell. He’s sure that he’s really close to finding what’s happening with Scott.

“Well, it wouldn’t be so far off,” Stiles says absentmindedly. “You kind of were acting like a caveman with Jackson at the tryouts.”

“What?” Scott asks, his tone a bit curt.

It sounds so unlike his friend that Stiles looks up. Scott isn’t angry per say, but he does look a bit hurt and frustrated. Stiles then replays what he just said and he has to admit that he could have worded it better. “Sorry. It’s just… I noticed that you were kind of angry at tryouts. It was just… not like you to behave like that. Like, you’ve been very different recently and there are changes that are awesome, but there are changes that  _ aren’t _ as awesome and you seem… angrier.”

“Angrier?” Scott asks disbelievingly as he stands up and starts pacing.

Scott radiates a restless energy that Stiles doesn’t really like. “Just… you know,” Stiles says awkwardly, not really knowing how to diffuse the situation.

Scott’s eyes narrow and he stops pacing to face Stiles. “No, I don’t know. I was playing lacrosse, Stiles. It’s normal to… to… to be a bit more aggressive! It’s a competitive sport!”

Stiles knows he should keep his mouth shut and just nod at this point. He’s used to keeping his head down at home after all. But, with everything that has been happening lately, Stiles has a shorter temper and so he just says what he thinks. “Yeah, okay! People tend to get competitive and a bit aggressive playing lacrosse, but fuck! You were this close to raming Jackson to the ground!” Stiles says as he puts his finger and thumb barely an inch apart. “You never acted like that before, Scott!”

“How would you know?!” Scott asks as he grits his teeth. “It’s not like you’ve been my friend in the last few years! You kept avoiding me all the  _ fucking _ time so don’t tell me how you know me because that’s a lie!”

Stiles feels like he has been punched. He doesn’t know why they’re talking about this now. Doesn’t know how he should respond, not when Scott is literally plunging a knife in his heart. “That’s… That’s…”

“Not true?” Scott asks derisively before scoffing. “Ever since your mom died-”

“Don’t talk about my mom,” Stiles warns his friend, a thick ball of emotion forming in his throat.

“-you’ve shut down. But fuck, man! It’s been five years! Get over yourself!”

Stiles blinks as words fail him. He’s normally good with words. He’s witty. But he doesn’t know what he could possibly say to this unfair and cruel statement. And, damn, it really  _ hurts _ . How can you get over the death of a family member? Is there a manuel to tell you how? And… fuck, it isn’t just about a dead family member. It’s about his dad drinking. It’s about the responsibilities that have been entrusted to him. It’s about being worried sick for  _ years _ without anyone to help him.

At a loss, Stiles simply stands from the couch with his notebook and pen and heads towards the entrance.

“What are you doing?” Scott asks, aggravation still clear in his voice.

“I’m going home,” Stiles says, feeling miserable.

“I’m not done!” Scott says as he pulls Stiles by the back of his shirt.

Stiles is surprised by the movement, his shirt strangling him briefly as he stumbles back and when he sees Scott’s face… A sob escapes him. Just one, and tears fill his eyes though they don’t spill.

The angry scowl quickly disappears from Scott’s face when he sees how upset Stiles is. “Oh my God…” Scott whispers, horrified. “I’m so sorry… I’m  _ so _ sorry, Stiles. I don’t know what came over me, I…”

“You got angry?” Stiles says when Scott stalls. He knows he might be poking the tiger with his words, but he really can’t bring himself to care right now.

Scott winces but he does nod. “Yeah… okay. I might be having trouble with my temper recently.”

“Told you,” Stiles mutters, frustrated, and an awkward silence falls over them.

“I’m really sorry,” Scott tries again as he brings a comforting hand to Stiles’ shoulder. “I didn’t mean any of that, it’s like… I knew those words would hurt you most and…”

“Okay,” Stiles says just to make Scott stop talking. He doesn’t think he can really forgive, not right now at any rate. He sniffs. “Look, I’ll keep an eye out to try and figure out what’s happening, alright? I just… want to go home now.”

Scott nods and doesn’t say anything as Stiles leaves the living room, simply following his friend. He watches Stiles putting his notebook and pen in his backpack and shoving his feet in his shoes.

“You know you’re my best friend, right? And I love you, bro,” Scott says before Stiles can escape the house.

Stiles has a hand on the doorknob and he’s ready to leave, but… those words are positive and they do soothe Stiles a bit. So he turns to face Scott with a small smile. “I love you too. Just… be careful. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, you know?”

“Yeah,” Scott agrees quietly.

The teen seems uneasy and Stiles doesn’t know what he could add to make the situation less awkward. But then, he thinks he has had enough for today. So he turns and leaves the house.

***

Derek watches the entire interaction between the teens from his spot in the bushes. Most of the evening drags on, the teen playing video games. But then, Stiles addresses the subject of Scott’s change and it quickly goes downhill.

In all honesty, Derek is impressed with the data Stiles was able to gather. It’s clear that he isn’t far away with the answer. But not long after, Scott loses control with his anger and Derek is wondering if he’ll have to barge in and put a stop to the situation. He hesitates because he doesn’t think just showing up like that is the right way to introduce himself and then, before he can say fuck it, Scott seems to come back to his senses.

Derek feels like he can breathe again. He doesn’t want the new werewolf to completely lose control and injure or kill someone he obviously likes. Derek knows how that feels and he wouldn’t wish the feeling on anyone. Except Kate, but she’s a special case.

The thought of her makes him wonder again if it’s a good idea to consider talking to Stiles. Stiles might not be a hunter, but he’s a human. There’s a good chance the teen will react negatively and if hunters grab ahold of him… it could end very badly.

But then, just before Stiles leaves the house, he says something very interesting.

_ “I love you too. Just… be careful. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, you know?” _

Stiles isn’t lying. Derek can hear it in the way the teen’s heart stays steady. Despite whatever happened in the last few years between the two friends, he gets the impression that those two are incredibly loyal. It eases the small part in Derek’s brain that distrusts humans and he considers the possibility of approaching Stiles first.

***

Stiles parks his car in the driveway only to find that his dad’s cruiser isn’t there. He’s alone. Again.

Stiles sighs tiredly as he rubs his eyes. He’s going to take a few minutes before going inside, he decides. Scott’s words have cut to the bone and he doesn’t know where he’s going to find the strength to actually move into his cold, haunted, empty house.

He has worked so hard throughout the last five years to… to ignore a lot of stuff. It was easy to do so when he was so busy and away from anyone that could actually tell him that something was wrong. But with his dad telling him to act like a regular teenager and Scott telling him to get over everything that happened in the last five years… Stiles is lost and there’s this terrifying numbness that he has been trying to escape since his mom’s death that is threatening to steal him away.

He knows that he can’t let the numbness win. If it wins, Stiles won’t leave his bed in the morning. He won’t eat like he should. He won’t smile, cry or have any emotion. He won’t do… anything. He’ll waste away, just like he was afraid his dad would.

But he won’t, Stiles tells himself. He doesn’t have time to waste away. He needs to find what’s going on with Scott and he should also take advantage of the fact that his dad isn’t at home to clean whatever that wasn’t cleaned properly Sunday.

Decision made, Stiles takes a deep breath and goes to leave his car only to find that there’s a guy standing right beside his window.

Stiles yelps loudly and jumps away from the window. The guy,  _ the very hot guy _ , takes a step back and raises his hands to show that he isn’t dangerous. But yeah, that doesn’t mean anything, Stiles isn’t stupid.

When the guy doesn’t leave, it becomes clear that he wants to talk to Stiles. For a moment, Stiles wonders if the man is the son of his neighbour, but he’s pretty sure that Mrs. Johnson only has daughters. So why does he stay there? Unable to leave a mystery unanswered, Stiles rolls his window down a few centimeters, just enough for them to talk but not enough for the guy to try anything shady.

“Can I help you?” Stiles asks slowly.

The guy lets his hands fall, his eyes never leaving Stiles’ face. Honestly, his gaze is  _ intense _ and it seems even more so with how blue his eyes are. Stiles actually has to swallow extra saliva down. He doesn’t think he has ever seen someone as… beautiful as the man in front of him. Which he doesn’t understand. How come he’s feeling this affected by a stranger? This isn’t normal for him.

“I have information about your friend,” the man says after a few too many seconds passed between them.

Stiles has warning bells ringing in his brain after hearing these words. What does this guy know? Sure, he doesn’t seem like he means harm, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t dangerous… “What do you know?” Stiles asks carefully despite the part of him that wants to open the door and actually touch the man. “And who the fuck are you?”

The guy raises his hands again, like he knows how skittish Stiles feels right now. “My name is Derek Hale. You guys went in the woods last Friday and your friend found the body of my… my sister.”

Well, shit. Derek has to know what happened. This isn’t a coincidence and either Derek wants to help or he’s there to create a lot of trouble. Part of Stiles wants to believe the best from this stranger, but this is way too suspicious. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Stiles says, despite knowing how empty those words are. “But you really need to start talking, dude.”

Derek nods and licks his lips before talking. “Well, there isn’t any way to soften the blow. Scott’s a werewolf.”

Stiles freezes. Werewolf? This sounds completely ridiculous. But then he feels his brain start up again and, nope. He freezes once more. “Werewolf?” 

Derek winces though he seems unrepentant. “Uh… I guess I could have tried to word this a bit better. Look, you have noticed a few weird things about Scott recently, right? Like the bite and the-”

“Oh shit...” Stiles says as everything clicks in his mind. Scott said he was bitten by a wolf. The animal instincts. The superhuman abilities. “He’s a werewolf.”

“Yeah,” Derek confirms, a cautious look on his face.

Stiles stares at Derek, astonished. “Are you a werewolf too? Wait, wait! Did you bite him?”

“I’m a werewolf but I’m not the one that bit Scott, that was… that was the one that killed my sister,” Derek says slowly and his sorrow is clearer.

A part of Stiles wants to comfort the stranger because he understands and he has been taking care of a grieving man for the past few years. But he only knows how to help by working in the shadows which he doesn’t think he can do right here. So… change of subject? “Okay… Can you prove you’re a werewolf?”

Derek pauses for a second but his expression doesn’t let any emotion show through. And then, as unbelievable as it may be, his face  _ changes _ . Derek’s eyes flash an unnatural red, hair sprouts where there didn’t use to be any and, fuck, the fangs!

Stiles thinks he should feel terrified or at the very least a bit scared but he is… fascinated. He doesn’t understand why because the dude isn’t as handsome with the wolfie face. Like, where the fuck did his fucking eyebrows go? He should feel something negative because it’s human nature to feel insecure in front of unknown things. But Stiles is drawn to Derek. Even more than before and he just… can’t understand what’s happening.

Then again, Stiles has always been curious and it might just be… his curiosity acting up. Stiles swallows heavily and stop his hand from reaching to the window like a bad romantic movie. “Wow. Okay, yep. Werewolf. Awesome. So, uh, anything I need to know? For Scott?”

Derek turns back to his normal face. “A lot of things actually. But I think we can have this conversation elsewhere, don’t you think?” he asks as he points towards Stiles’ house.

Now, no matter how much Stiles wants to believe in Derek, he isn’t going to let a stranger inside his house. He shakes his head. “I don’t know you, buddy. I really want to hear what you have to say but we’re going to have this conversation in a very public place. How about we meet at Starbucks tomorrow at noon?”

Derek is thinking it over though he doesn’t seem too pleased. “I don’t think this is the type of conversation that’s ideal in public…”

“Unless we’re going to plot a murder, I think it’s going to be fine,” Stiles says a bit flippantly. Because come on. Everyone at Starbucks is either working on a computer or on their phone.

“And if someone does hear us, they’re going to think we’re nerds talking about a game. Well… I’ll be the nerd and they’ll think you’re my benevolent uncle or something, listening to my crazy stories. With you adding to it. I don’t know,” Oh God, Stiles needs to stop talking. “Anyway… tomorrow at noon?”

Derek has this expression on his face, like he’s trying to stay as blank as possible and has a hard time. He could be trying to hide annoyance, Stiles knows he can be a handful. But then, there’s a small smile that appears on Derek’s lips and it’s so unexpected that Stiles isn’t sure how he’s supposed to interpret that.

“Okay. Tomorrow,” Derek agrees and then his smile disappears into a frown. “Just… keep an eye on Scott. Get him away if he looks like he’s getting too angry. And… If you feel like bringing Scott to our meeting would be a good idea, do so, alright?”

Stiles nods and Derek smiles once again. It’s barely a tilt of the lips but his whole face lightens up and Stiles would fan himself if it wouldn’t look so ridiculous. A second later, Derek turns and runs away, faster than any human should be able to.

***

His heart is beating really fast as he runs into the woods to his own residence. In all honesty, he feels like he’s about to explode or something. He can’t believe it. Until he came to talk to Stiles, he hadn’t been close enough to properly catch the teen’s scent and so he hadn’t thought much of the teen except for the possibility of a mutual understanding or maybe even friendship to attain his own goal.

But when Stiles rolled down the window, he felt like his nose was assaulted with the teen’s  _ delectable _ scent. Sure, there were Stiles emotions at the forefront, but the base, the core that is Stiles Stilinski? Dear God… The teen smells like… Like home, like hot chocolate in winter, like fruity detergent. But that’s not all. Stiles also smells like a kid seeking his parents’ approval, like neediness, like tears that has yet to fall.

He doesn’t know why this scent hooks him. It shouldn’t… the scent of tears and neediness are quite repelling. Normally. But in Stiles, it doesn’t make him seem like a pathetic teen close to breakdown. Instead, it’s like… Stiles smells like someone he wants to hold close and never let go. Like someone he’d treasure and protect and like a…

_ Mate _ . He smells like his mate.

He groans at the thought as the wind cuts through his hair, his legs pumping even faster. He never believed in those tales as a child because he never even met other werewolves that had found their destined ones. It happens so rarely that he just thought those stories to be… stories. But now, with the memory of Stiles’ scent still so fresh in his mind, he can’t deny it. He has found his other half and it is…  _ terrifying _ .

Part of him is tempted to run as far away from Stiles because he’s scared he isn’t going to be able to keep his head on straight. He has a goal, damnit! And he wants to achieve it. But the other part of him wants to turn around, head to Stiles house and never let the teen go. He wants to protect Stiles, take care of him and, hell, just learn to know the person.

But he can be rational when he has to be and he knows that right now is that kind of moment. So he’s going to go to his own place and rest for the night. Then, tomorrow morning, he’s  _ not _ going to stalk Scott and Stiles at school. Instead, he’s going to take some time to think about his goals, which are so close he can almost  _ taste _ it, while trying to forget Stiles. And then, the lunch meeting.

Even if he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he knows he’ll be counting the minutes until that lunch meeting.

***

Despite how tired Stiles feels when he finally enters his house, he still can’t let the opportunity go. His dad isn’t here and Stiles is going to make to most of it. He has to clean. Just has to. There is food in the refrigerator that is bound to go bad, he has to vacuum the whole house because of the missed corners, the same for dusting and…

And Stiles won’t have time for much more, because it is kind of late and he can’t do too much either if he doesn’t want his dad to notice anything.

So Stiles turns on the radio in the kitchen and goes to work. The repetitive songs and the repetitive chores have a hypnotic effect and, somehow, without noticing the passing of time, Stiles is done.

He’s holding the duster, looking for a spot he could have missed, a bit confused. When he looks at the clock in the kitchen, he sees that he has been cleaning for a full hour and that he needs to go to bed if he doesn’t want to be dead on his feet tomorrow.

With that realisation, Stiles puts the duster away in the cupboard under the sink and walks one last tour around the house, turning off lights and locking the front door, before heading up to his bedroom.

Once there, Stiles takes his clothes off. He takes a whiff of his shirt and pants, checking if they still smell good or not. He folds his jeans and puts them away in his dresser. His shirt, socks and boxers, he throws in the hamper.

Stiles then slides between the bed’s sheets after having turned the light off. He sighs in relief as he feels his muscles relax. Today has been a tough day and Stiles would rather not even think about his fight with Scott or the revelation that werewolves are actually real. But with nothing to occupy his mind, Stiles can’t help but think back about today’s events.

He keeps seeing Scott’s angry face. Keeps hearing the hurtful words his friend dared to utter. It’s like taking a knife to his heart and twisting the blade into the wound. It hurts. Badly. And when Stiles feels his breathing begin to hitch, he closes his eyes and stops himself from drawing another breath.

Stiles loves Scott. He’s like a brother to Stiles. But the distress he has been pushing away since their argument is making itself known and Stiles feels like his body is too small to contain all the hurt he has inside. He feels like he needs to expand his body, get a fucking saw to slice open his chest and let the emotions out, out,  _ out _ .

But that isn’t how it works and Stiles knows it. When his fingers starts to tremble with the force of his emotions, he finally gulps down a breath and opens his eyes only to jump on his nightstand’s last drawer. Just like last time, he pulls out his stuffed bunny and the Captain America pacifier. He crushes the bunny against his chest and brings the pacifier to his lips though not in his mouth.

Stiles already feels a bit better and if his eyes get a bit wet, well it’s easy to simply close them and wipe his face against his pillow. Sleep is evasive that night, but Stiles does eventually succumb to his exhaustion.

***

Around 3AM, Stiles wakes up with a whine, his whole body trembling. He has been having nightmares, dreaming about Scott pushing and insulting him. Dreaming about finding his dad, dead, in his armchair in the living room, a fucking empty can of beer in his hand and vomit all over his mouth and shirt.

Stiles feels tiny, helpless and confused. He woke up because he knew he was having bad dreams and his distress was overwhelming. But right now, even knowing that he’s awake, he isn’t sure if his dreams were real or not. He’s scared to move, almost convinced he’s going to find his dad drowning in his own puke if he goes to check downstairs.

His mind still muddled with sleep, Stiles is convinced that he’s safer in his bed. He just needs to calm down and surround himself with his sheets and he’s going to be okay, nothing will be able to hurt him.

Without thinking about it, Stiles pushes the pacifier in his mouth and sucks around the nipple as he pulls the sheets over his head and tighter around himself. He leaves just enough place for his nose to peak out between his pillow and sheets and the position… seems to work.

Like this, Stiles feels very warm and safe. The tight cocoon around him feels like there’s someone hugging him and the pacifier… it’s so soothing, he’s barely able to comprehend why. It may have something to do with his baser needs, like eating or having a roof over his head. Yes. That’s exactly it. The pacifier is basic.

Or, that’s what Stiles thinks right this moment. And, seconds later, Stiles falls back asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Stiles is a bit anxious. Not only did he wake up with a pacifier in his mouth, which he is so not proud of, but he has the meeting with Derek at lunch time. The whole morning, Stiles hesitates over whether he should bring Scott with him or not. But when the bell for lunch period rings, Stiles has come to a decision and is ready to go fetch his friend so that they can meet up with Derek. They are going to discuss Scott’s condition after all and Stiles knows that he would want to be there if he were in his friend’s place.

Finding Scott turns out to be a bit of a challenge. Stiles had thought that, with how yesterday played out, Scott would at least be trying to get into his good graces today and… heck, if Stiles were in Scott’s shoes, he’d try to avoid trouble at all cost. Which Scott isn’t doing. At all.

“Scott!” Stiles calls out in the overcrowded hallway when he finds the teen hanging around the new girl, a flirty smile on his lips.

Scott looks up and waves at Stiles as the teen finally catches up. “Oh, hey, Stiles,” Scott says before turning his eyes to the girl beside him. He couldn’t look any more lovestruck if he tried. “Have you met Allison?”

Stiles faces the girl, noticing her long brown hair, expressive eyes and adorable dimples. She truly is pretty and she seems absolutely lovely but Stiles so doesn’t have time for this right now. “Oh, hi,” he says quickly.

Allison smiles at Stiles. “Hey, Scott said a lot of things about you,” she greets him.

No matter how sweet Allison is, Stiles still winces at those words. “He has?”

Allison seems to notice how uncomfortable her words made him. She softens her smile. “All good things, I swear.”

Stiles hugs his middle because he wants to believe her but there’s a treacherous voice in the back of his head, telling him that can’t be true. He knows that voice is just his insecurities talking though, so he ignores it. “I hope so,” Stiles says and quickly turns to face Scott. “I, uh, don’t mean to interrupt anything, but I kind of have to talk to you?”

Scott hesitates and fidgets, barely able to look at Stiles. “It’s not about… yesterday… right? I said I was sorry.”

“Uh, no,” Stiles says as he glances at a confused Allison. “I just think I found answers to… our little problem. So. You coming?”

“Oh…” Scott mutters, his eyes on Allison. He seems disappointed. “I was actually going to eat with Allison…”

Stiles refrains from rolling his eyes. Isn’t Scott curious about having more answers? Doesn’t he want help? Especially with last night, doesn’t he feel scared about what he can now do?

Apparently, trying to get a girlfriend is more important. “This is important,” Stiles stresses.

Scott sighs before turning a blinding smile in Allison’s way. “We’ll have to rain check, I guess. We’re still on for tonight though?”

At those words, Stiles feels a bit of frustration because he’s trying to  _ help _ here, but he pushes it down. Or, he tries to, at least. He can’t help but agree with the little voice telling him it would’ve been easier to just meet Derek by himself.

A friendly slap on his shoulder brings Stiles back into the present. Scott smiles down at him. “So, you wanted to talk? Should we find a quiet spot in the library or something?”

“Uh…” Stiles croaks before clearing his throat. He isn’t too sure how Scott is going to react to what he has to say next. “Actually, we’re meeting someone. I, uh, I found someone that has information to give us.”

Scott frowns, looking a bit displeased. “You found someone? When? Yesterday night, you didn’t have any clue what’s going on.”

Stiles winces. Yeah, there’s no way to sugarcoat this. “I ran into this guy yesterday night. I agreed to meet him at lunch period, so… we should get going.”

He’s able to steer Scott away from the lockers and into the corridor leading to the school’s entrance. Scott follows but he seems even more upset than before. “Last night? Like, after you left my house? Where the heck did you go?”

“Just… home,” Stiles edges as they pass through the front door. Okay. So inviting Scott just seems to become a worse idea by the second. Should he keep pushing this? “Look, you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“Stiles,” Scott says in an offended tone. “You met a random dude on your way to your house and he somehow seems to have answers to whatever’s happening to me? Don’t you think this looks suspicious? Come on, man!”

As Stiles unlocks his Jeep and settles himself behind the wheel, he takes the time to inhale a fortifying breath. He doesn’t understand this instinct to defend Derek. He only met the guy yesterday and in very unusual circumstances but he has this… need… to protect him. In all honesty, Stiles has been excited about seeing the man again. There’s this hook inside of him that’s pulling him towards Derek and he feels like he will scream if he misses their meeting.

Now, Stiles knows this is kind of crazy. But. If werewolves are real… is it possible that there’s something else going on? With this incredible pull he’s feeling? It could be harmful, he guesses. Derek technically  _ could _ be doing something magical to Stiles, making him feel at ease in front of the man. Making him believe he’s safe…

But the thought burns something inside of Stiles. Everything in him is screaming against the idea. Derek isn’t a bad person. He won’t hurt him. Derek  _ is _ safe.

“That’s why I told him to meet me at Starbuck today instead of letting him into my house,” Stiles finally answers as he starts his car. He reeves it back and drives out of the school’s parking lot once he sees that Scott buckled in. “I’m not an idiot.”

Scott scoffs lightly. “Maybe he’s the reason I’m like that. Have you thought about that?”

Stiles looks at the road in front of him for a few seconds, frozen. Scott hasn’t ever been this mean to him before and he knows it’s because Scott is a werewolf and having difficulty controlling himself but it still hurts. Stiles’ fingers tighten around the wheel. “Yes, Scott. I have,” he says, his tone maybe a bit too cutting. Last night’s nasty words are still clear in his mind however.

“I… I guess,” Scott says as he takes a few deep breaths. He clenches his hands into fists a few times. “Sorry. I think I’m having trouble controlling my anger again.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything back, knowing he’s just going to snap if he does. He shouldn’t have brought Scott with him to this meeting. He should have just gone by himself and just… He doesn’t know. He shouldn’t enjoy this meeting, he knows, but… how could he not? He’s a sucker for mysteries and he really wants to see Derek! Maybe ask if he feels the same pull he does.

But now, he’s stuck with Scott and his friend is sucking to joy out of this meeting.

The rest of the ride to Starbucks is silent. Thankfully, the drive doesn’t last too long and Stiles is able to park his Jeep in front of the café. He doesn’t waste any time getting out of the car and Scott doesn’t either.

They enter Starbucks. The noon rush means that there are a lot of people inside the café, but most of the people are there simply to pick up their drinks and food before leaving. Stiles scans the tables, because he’s guessing that Derek will be sitting down, and, just as he thought, he quickly finds the man at the back of the room, staring right at him.

Stiles’ heart skips a beat and a soft gasp escapes him. Derek is… even more beautiful in daylight. How is that possible?

As soon as the sound escapes Stiles’ mouth, Scott turns to look at him, confused with his reaction. Stiles shakes himself and points to Derek. This isn’t the time to moon over someone Scott doesn’t trust. “That’s him,” he tells his friend.

Scott frowns, clearly displeased, like he hoped the man would be a no show, and heads over to the other werewolf. Stiles follows, weaving through the tables until they’re both standing in front of Derek.

Derek keeps his eyes on Stiles the whole time and Stiles feels like he’s burning under the gaze. When both the teen are standing besides his table, he gives a heartfelt smile at Stiles before turning a serious face towards Scott.

“Scott,” he says. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Scott scowls and that makes Stiles sighs in dismay.

“Yeah. Well you seemed too suspicious to let my friend meet you alone,” Scott tells him.

This is going to be painful. Stiles just knows it. He sits down at the small round table and pushes a chair in Scott’s direction so that his friend can take a hint and calm the fuck down. “Let’s just… listen to what Derek has to say, alright?”

Scott’s scowl hardens before he unwillingly sits into the chair. He crosses his arms and glares at Derek. “So?”

Derek doesn’t speak for a long few seconds, simply tilts his head, considering. His face is blank, so Stiles can’t really tell what’s going on through the man’s mind. But then, Derek throws a quick look at Stiles, communicating a quick,  _ is he for real, _ before facing Scott again.

“Like I told your friend,” Derek starts. “You must have noticed that you’ve changed recently. You’ve become stronger, your senses have heightened, stuff like that?”

Scott agrees with a grunt. Stiles wants to slap him behind the head. He doesn’t though.

Derek simply continues, as if he weren’t talking to a recalcitrant teen. “You must have noticed some urges, like feeling overly possessive of certain objects, places and people.”

Scott tightens his arms around himself and Stiles doesn’t miss the move. Suddenly, Scott seems even more defensive and maybe a bit scared. Stiles then wants to kick himself. He has been hard on his friend because Scott kind of has been acting like an ass recently, but… Stiles has allowed himself to forget that Scott is going through a lot right now and maybe… maybe he should give him some slack.

He puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder in support and Scott seems to melt under the touch. Just a bit.

Derek sees the exchange and places his hands on the table, hunching his shoulders downward a bit. The new position makes him look smaller and more approachable. “I know it’s new and kind of terrifying, but know that this is normal. You’ll get used to all of this really soon.”

“Okay,” Scott says, clearly not convinced. “So… what’s going on with me?”

Derek hesitates a bit before taking the plunge. “You’re a werewolf.”

Scott doesn’t react. Stiles and Derek wait for him to say something and the sound of the people inside the café seem overly loud as the seconds tick by.

“Werewolf?” Scott says, his tone completely dead.

Stiles winces but Derek soldiers on. “Yes. I know it seems weird but it’s true. You’ve been feeling angrier recently, right? Maybe even more possessive. That’s because the full moon is tonight and, Scott, you need help for that. At a first full moon, you’re going to need packmates to help you out.”

“Packmates?” Scott repeats.

“Yes. Look, someone, a werewolf, bit you, but I do know that, whoever it was, killed Laura. So you either take a chance with that person or you join my pack and I’ll help you.”

Scott’s expression is closed off. He clearly doesn’t believe a word of what has been said. “This is ridiculous. Werewolves aren’t real.”

Derek rolls his eyes and sighs. The expression on his face reminds Stiles of a lion being mildly annoyed by a mouse. “Yes, it is. I’ve been one my whole life.”

“Then prove it,” Scott challenges.

Stiles gapes at his friend as he leans away, his hand falling from Scott’s shoulder. Not that he doesn’t believe his friend should ask for proof, he totally should, but this clearly isn’t the place. Stiles doesn’t know a lot from werewolves, but if he didn’t known they were real until yesterday, it clearly is because werewolves want to keep it that way.

“I can’t prove it here,” Derek says slowly. “But if we go somewhere secluded, I’ll-”

Scott scoffs, interrupting Derek. “Yeah, right. That sounds like an excuse to get us alone somewhere. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t trust you one bit. As far as I know, you’re behind all of this.”

“I’m not making excuses,” Derek says, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “If I prove it to you here, I’ll cause a panic and there’s always the chance that a hunter might see-”

“Whatever,” Scott says as he stands up. He looks pissed. “Come on, Stiles. We’re leaving.”

Without another word, Scott walks away. Derek seems stunned and Stiles understands the feeling. Scott… used to be a mild guy. He also wasn’t the brightest, still isn’t, but at least he used to be trusting. Too trusting at times and now, it’s almost like he sees conspiracies everywhere around him. This is very out of character for Scott. He didn’t even try to listen to Derek.

Stiles stands up slowly, unsure about what he should do. He doesn’t really have the choice to follow Scott. He does have to go back to school and he is Scott’s ride. But… he wants to stay behind with Derek.

And if he has to guess by the man’s expression, he’d say that Derek wants him to stay too. Derek looks almost… heartbroken as he stares at Stiles.

Stiles still doesn’t know what’s happening between them and there assuredly is something happening there. He’s even surer than before. Derek can’t be faking this look, just as Stiles can’t fake his unhappiness at the situation with Scott.

Without really noticing, Stiles stretches his hand in the space between him and Derek. When he realises that he’s about to touch the guy, he tries to draw back, feeling embarrassed, but Derek doesn’t let him. As quick as a whip, he snatches Stiles’ hand in his and holds it like it’s the most precious treasure in the world.

The moment would be perfect if Scott weren’t there to ruin it.

“Come on, Stiles!” Scott yells annoyedly in the café as he holds the door to the exit.

A lot of people turn to look at Scott and then Stiles. The teen sighs, regretting once more that he brought Scott to this meeting. But he still has to leave. He’s about to remove his hand from Derek, but the werewolf brings his other hand to their hold and slips a piece of paper between Stiles’ fingers.

Stiles’ breath hitches, but he accepts the offering and makes sure to hide it properly when Derek finally lets go. Only then does Stiles leave the café.

***

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with that guy!” Scott complains as Stiles drives them back to school. “He’s suspicious as fuck! And werewolves?  _ Werewolves? _ The guy was fucking with us.”

Stiles sighs tiredly. “He was telling the truth, you know?” he tries. “I saw it. He turned right in front of me last night.”

Stiles throws a quick glance at his friend only to see that Scott looks dubious.

“It was at night,” Scott argues. “He must have pulled a trick or something and you just couldn’t see clearly.”

God, this is frustrating. Stiles feels his fingers tighten around the wheel as he stops himself from snapping at Scott. “I know what I saw,” he says more forcefully. “Hair was sprouting out of his face and he had fangs!”

Scott stubbornly shakes his head in denial. “Werewolves don’t exist, Stiles. That’s a fact and you know it. I don’t know what it is with you and the dude, but you have to stay away from him.”

“What?” Stiles asks, not expecting this turn in the conversation.

Scott rolls his eyes. “I swear, you look like a love struck puppy when you’re around the guy and, Stiles… You can’t say this doesn’t stink. This guy has to be up to something.”

Stiles truly doesn’t have any more patience for Scott’s attitude. He wants to be there for his friend and he does understand that this change is very difficult to face and just plain scary. But Stiles doesn’t want to be around Scott when his friend is being an asshole. “Well, we’ll never get a chance to find out what’s going on in Derek’s head now, will we? We could have made him talk if only you hadn’t lost your temper.”

Now that shuts Scott’s mouth. Stiles doesn’t really think what he just said because, deep inside, he knows that Derek isn’t a threat, could never be one. Not to him, at least. But Stiles isn’t above using logic to make Scott see how much of an idiot he is being.

“I… I guess I did lose my temper… again,” Scott murmurs miserably.

Stiles doesn’t reassure his friend because he’s getting tired of this song and dance. Scott’s emotions have been all over the place and while he can empathise with that, Stiles doesn’t like being used as a punching bag.

“I’m sorry,” Scott tries.

“Then stop doing it,” Stiles says as softly as he can. The point here isn’t to get Scott angry, again, but to get him to understand. “I don’t know if you noticed, but you’ve been yelling at me since yesterday and you’ve been downright mean. And, look, I understand that a lot of things are going on in your life, but I’m trying to help you. So just… stop it. Please.”

Scott doesn’t say anything for quite some time, just until Stiles steers the Jeep into the school’s parking lot.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, sounding much more sincere this time around.

Stiles sighs. He parks the car and turns the ignition off before facing Scott. He knows that’s when he’s supposed to forgive his friend, but… Stiles can’t really bring himself to say the words. It might be petty of him, but he’s still too hurt from Scott’s attitude and he’s pretty sure that, despite being sorry, Scott will forget soon enough to be careful. So a change of conversation is the best he can do at this point.

“So what are you going to do tonight?” he asks.

Scott smiles, all goofy and a dreamy glint in his eyes. “I’m meeting with Allison at the bowling alley with Lydia and Jackson. It’s a double date. I’m so excited, man. Allison is so sweet and funny and she really cares about what I have to say.”

“Uh…” Stiles is floored. He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say. He wanted to change the subject, but not that much! “Scott. Derek just said tonight is a full moon!”

“And?” Scott asks, confused. He also seems a bit angry, but he’s clearly keeping it in for the moment.

Stiles runs a hand over his his face before trying a different approach. “Look. I know you don’t believe Derek, but I do. So… Why not stay home tonight? I’ll be there with you and that way, if Derek is right, then you won’t be around people in public. And if Derek’s wrong, well, we’ll know he’s trying to play us and we’ll steer clear of him. Alright?”

Scott doesn’t like the sound of that. “Stiles. This is the first girl that has ever shown interest in me.”

Stiles blinks. “Yeah… And you can just reschedule. Tell her a white lie. Like you feel sick or something but that you’ll see each other tomorrow night instead.”

Scott nods but he doesn’t say anything and Stiles can see the stubborn tilt in his friend’s chin. He knows that Scott won’t reschedule his date and… and… Stiles grits his teeth.

“Well, lunch break isn’t over yet,” Stiles says as calmly as he can. “Why don’t you go find Allison?”

Immediately, Scott perks up. “Oh yeah!”

Scott leaves the car and doesn’t look back. Stiles would be hurt to be left behind like that but he’s so frustrated with his friend that he doesn’t care. He takes deep breaths to try and calm himself while also thinking about his next course of action. He’ll have to keep an eye on Scott tonight, that’s for sure.

Fuck. He was hoping to have a nice evening too. He has slept like shit and with the stupid meeting, he feels dead on his feet. But he isn’t going to be able to sleep because Scott needs to pass time with Allison.

Stiles sighs as he pulls the small piece of paper Derek gave him. Despite how aggravating the situation is, he’s still curious and excited to see what the man gave him. He unfolds the paper and finds that Derek left him his phone number.

His heart flutters happily despite feeling this moody and Stiles immediately pulls his phone out and adds the number into his contacts. He hesitates for a brief second but then pushes all caution out the window and brushes his thumb against the green icon, calling Derek.

The phone rings two times before it connects. “Hello?”

The sound of Derek’s voice is like a warm blanket being thrown over his shoulders. “Derek,” he says, his voice oddly thick. “Uh, it’s me, Stiles.”

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek greets him and his tone is so rich and welcoming.

It eases something in Stiles. Something he can’t name. “I… Uh. I…”

He doesn’t know why, but there’s something stuck in his throat and his eyes are filling with tears. It doesn’t make sense, but talking to Derek feels good. He feels… secure. He shouldn’t because he doesn’t know the guy, barely even exchanged words with him, but Stiles kind of realises that no one talks to him like Derek does. With attention and interest and care. Which is awful.

How is it that his own dad isn’t this considerate? How is it that he’s unable to understand his own son? Why does Scott treat him like shit? Why does everyone avoid him like he has the plague or something? Why is he so fucking alone?

Stiles sobs once and he tries to keep the following ones inside, feeling terribly embarrassed, but he can’t control it. He puts his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his gulping breaths as if it’s possible. His shoulders are shaking with the strength of his sobs and his hands aren’t faring any better.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, voice full of concern. “Hey, shh, it’s okay. Breathe for me, alright? Shh, shh…”

The soft words only make Stiles cry harder and he’s so fucking embarrassed, he doesn’t know how to save this situation. “I-I-I’m so… so s-s-sorry. I… I d-d-d… I d-don…” Oh God, he can’t even finish his sentence!

“Hey, it’s alright,” Derek reassures him with the kindest voice. “Just let it out, okay? You can cry.”

And Stiles does. It doesn’t last long, thankfully, since he tires himself out quickly. Still. The damage is done. He doesn’t know how he can socially recover from that. Crying on the phone to an almost stranger, one that Stiles kind of fancies? He’s completely mortified.

At least, now he knows that nothing will ever happen with Derek. No matter how attracted they seem to be to one another, there’s no way Derek will ever want to be with Stiles. Who wants a crybaby? Someone that’s so emotionally unstable? Someone that’s so fucked up, no one wants anything to do with them?

If Stiles is honest with himself, he knows he doesn’t deserve Derek and it hurts. He wants to be worthy of the man. But he’s a fucking mess and, really, there are way too many obstacles they would have to face to actually have a relationship. Like the fact that Derek is closer to his father’s age than his own.

He pushes the thoughts away, afraid he’ll burst into tears once again, and clears his throat. “Uh. Yeah. Sorry about that,” he says.

He expects Derek to tell him that it’s okay and then to change the subject because he can be a gentleman while still not wanting anything to do with Stiles. This isn’t what happens though.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that,” Derek says in a tone so soothing, Stiles is sure he could fall asleep to his voice. “You really seemed upset… what happened?”

“Oh…” Stiles doesn’t expect Derek to… care. No one ever cares. Not in the way Derek seemingly does. “Sorry… I guess I just had a rough week. Not that it really matters.”

With that, Stiles laughs uneasily. He’s so used to brushing aside his own problems, he just doesn’t know how to voice them. He’s pretty sure he shouldn’t either. Because… they’re not really problems are they? His dad and Scott? They’re just… bumps in the road. Bumps that Stiles will have to smooth over because he’s needed and that’s what he does.

The line is oddly silent for some time. “Sweetheart… Of course it matters,” Derek says very seriously.

Stiles wants to believe him. He really does. But if there’s one thing he has learned in the last five years, it’s that his place is in the shadows, where no one ever sees him. As much as he wants to be seen, it’s too scary.

So Stiles ignores Derek. “Anyway. I tried to talk to Scott about the, uh, full moon. I wanted us to stay inside at his house where I can help him as much as I can, but he’s… stubborn.”

There’s a small noise on the line. It sounds suspiciously like a scoff and Stiles can’t say he doesn’t understand the feeling.

“He insists on going to a date with a girl and some friends tonight,” Stiles adds. “I just… I’m not sure what I should do with Scott. I guess I can follow him, but if there’s a situation, I’m not sure how I should handle this or even if I’d be able to. Scott is much stronger than me, he could…”

Stiles doesn’t finish his sentence, but he knows Derek understands. Scott has shown incredible strength and uncontrollable anger. Scott could kill him in the heat of the moment.

Now, Stiles isn’t scared for himself, not really. He’s scared for Scott and what it would mean to the people around him.

Derek sighs heavily. He sounds concerned and weary. “Alright, Stiles, I understand. Stay at home tonight, okay? I’ll follow Scott and help him when he needs it. You just rest, yeah?”

Stiles feels his shoulders unclench. It’s like a weight has been lifted off. “Yeah, okay.”

“And where is that date?”

“The bowling alley.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, but Stiles can hear the man breathing in the the phone. The moment would be weird and creepy under other circumstances, but in this case, it feels too much like comfort. Stiles doesn’t want this call to end and it sounds like Derek wants to say something more.

But then the seconds pass and the moment stretches too long.

Derek clears his throat and, when he speaks, he sounds wrong footed. “Alright, well… I’ll take care of this and… I guess we’ll see how it goes after that.”

“Yeah,” Stiles murmurs.

They say goodbye and Stiles hangs up. He’s glad he called Derek so that Scott will have backup tonight. He’s also… not sure what this liaison with Derek will turn into. One thing he does know, though, is that it’s no use dreaming about the man wanting him back. Derek doesn’t have reason to even like him and this path… this path will just end in heartbreak.

Stiles already has way too much on his plate without adding a charming werewolf into the mix.

***

Derek is loath to admit it, but the full moon affects him just as much as a newly bitten werewolf. Of course, he has years of experience with the full moon and he knows how to control himself.

But… Beacon Hills is a bad place for him. He can’t help himself but remember his family, his pack. He misses his parents. He misses Cora. Peter. His cousins. He lost everything here because he was a moron and because he was manipulated.

It’s like this town has cursed him in all honesty. And it’s like… like the town is laughing at him now. Derek thought he had lost everything, but still, Beacon Hills asked for more and now Laura is dead. Laura, his alpha of the last six years, his best friend, his sister is… gone.

He’s angry. So angry. And hurt. He hasn’t got anything left and, still, he feels like life is working against him. What can he possibly do more to just… be?

So yeah. Despite knowing that Laura’s murderer is still loose and despite knowing that Scott is a sure link towards that person, Derek gets sloppy.

He… he becomes overemotional. He isn’t as vigilant as he stalks the teen at school. Barely even listens in. And while he knows that right now isn’t the time to become distracted, he can’t help himself. Old hurts mixed with new ones on a full moon are crippling.

Derek knows he needs to get his head in the game as the evening sets in. So he decides to take half an hour to himself once he’s sure that Scott is safe at home, eating supper.

He goes for a run in the Preserve.

He’s sure he made a good decision since he feels less grief stricken and angry than earlier. That is, until he comes back to the McCall household, only to find that the teen isn’t there anymore. In fact there isn’t anyone at all in the house.

Derek panics then. He has absolutely no idea where Scott McCall is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think now everyone understands what's going on with characters' identities and everything (though it's not revealed in the story yet). Still, I hope you like it. The mystery wasn't supposed to be such a big thing in the story anyway, but I still had some fun with it!
> 
> You can tell me what you thought! I really enjoy reading your comments. Next chapter, Stiles is going to be quite tortured, poor little thing. But we're getting closer to Stiles and Peter getting together, so no worries ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Despite being stressed, Stiles goes to bed by nine o’clock that night, unable to stay awake a minute longer.

In the morning, he is briefly proud of himself for not having needed to open his bottom drawer and mess with his baby stuff to fall asleep. Then, he feels ashamed of himself for being proud of not acting like a fucking baby.

Still, he pushes those thoughts away, which is easy to do, because he really wants to meet with Scott and… and just ask him what happened last night.

Stiles goes to school early. He checks his phone way too often, unable to stop himself from hoping he’ll find a message from Derek… There isn’t one, of course. And if he were Derek, he wouldn’t send a message to himself either.

School eventually starts and though Stiles does have a few classes with Scott, he’s unable to drag his friend away for a few minutes. In fact, he soon gets the feeling that Scott is avoiding him and Stiles tries very hard not to feel insulted, but it’s a battle he’s losing.

That Wednesday, Stiles has a hard time concentrating in class and ends up staring out of the windows most of the time. He notices that there is a man, a few years older than him with a leather jacket, that is standing outside and staring right back at him. Or he seems to, he’s standing quite far, so Stiles can’t be sure the man is looking at him or someone else. Still, it’s creepy enough that Stiles turn his head away, feeling chastised.

It’s only at the end of classes that Stiles is able to get Scott’s attention. The hallways are packed full with students and Stiles finds Scott rummaging through his locker. Scott, for the first time today, doesn’t have any friend with him and Stiles jumps on the occasion.

“Hey, Scott!” Stiles calls just as he’s standing behind the teen.

Scott jumps, surprised, before turning to face his friend. Scott seems uneasy when he sees Stiles. “Oh… Hey.”

Stiles doesn’t understand why Scott has avoided him or why he seems so unhappy to see him. He has been trying to push his hurt all day long, telling himself that he was imagining it, but there truly is no denying Scott’s behaviour now.

“How… How did it go, last night?” Stiles asks in a small voice.

Scott shrugs, looking tense. “You, uh, were right. Derek… kind of gave me a hand. But, look, I can’t really talk about this right now?”

Stiles stumbles over himself to reassure his friend. “Hey, no, it’s fine. Do you think we could, like, meet up at your house to talk?”

Scott cringes. He isn’t even looking at Stiles as he answers the question. “Uh. Look. I don’t want to be mean, but I kind of have a date with Allison? I’ll, uh… I’ll contact you when I’m free?”

Well. If that isn’t a brush off, Stiles doesn’t know what it is. “I’m just trying to help,” he says, feeling like he has to defend himself.

Scott sighs unhappily. He runs his fingers through his hair as he shoulders his school bag and closes his locker. “I know, I know… I just… I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want anything to do with it. So just...”

The teen doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t need to. Scott wants Stiles to leave him alone, that message is clear. And… it might not be forever. It might just be until Scott is ready to face the truth. At least, Stiles hopes so.

“Oh… Okay,” Stiles hears himself say.

Scott just nods and leaves.

Stiles can’t pretend he isn’t hurt. Scott hasn’t ever rejected him, even when Stiles kept brushing him off. Knowing that Scott doesn’t want him around anymore… It makes Stiles anxious.

There isn’t anything he can do now though. So Stiles pushes the feelings away and tries to forget the conversation.

He goes back home and finds that his dad isn’t there. After checking the calendar in the kitchen, Stiles sees that it’s because his dad has a night shift. Noah will come back home at six in the morning, meaning they will cross path as Stiles will be preparing for school and his dad for bed.

Stiles sighs. It isn’t easy with his dad right now, but somehow, he wishes he could have the man with him. He could use a hug. At the same time, he knows he can fonction perfectly well without one. He has been functioning without them for a few years after all.

He should also use the opportunity. If his dad isn’t here, that means he can’t see what Stiles does around the house. The lawn needs some mowing, the bathroom could be scrubbed and the dust has to be swept away. And Stiles needs to study, of course. The chemistry test is Friday after all…

The evening passes without Stiles noticing it. When it’s time for bed, he’s feeling quite tired. Still, sleep evades him and he is only able to stop his constant flow of stressful thoughts by snuggling his rabbit plush and by sucking on his pacifier.

Again.

***

Thursday morning, Stiles prepares for school and right until he leaves the house with his Jeep, he doesn’t see his dad. It stresses him a bit, of course, but he doesn’t think much of it. In the past, his dad has had to stay late at work and… while the night shift is terribly long already, Stiles knows his dad will just sleep it off when he comes back and the man will be fine.

So Stiles goes to school and focuses on his classes. As much as he can, which, sadly, isn’t much. Scott is still avoiding him and so Stiles is left all alone. A part of Stiles is sad. He has… craved human contact, he guesses, and finally allowing himself to be around Scott has been freeing.

The other part though is glad for the reprieve. Stiles isn’t used to interact with people what with the last few years and, even before his mother’s death, he already was awkward. Stiles… finds people tiring and the interactions too intricate. He  _ wants _ them but it doesn’t make them any easier on him.

And that just shows how fucking complicated Stiles is. Also shows why he doesn’t have friends, except for Scott. Who might not even want him around anymore. Ever.

School drags. The classes seem endless and Stiles is bored out of his mind. Even the stranger that has been standing outside the building, near the lacrosse field for two days in a row, fails to grab Stiles’ curiosity.

When he comes back home, Stiles’ dad is still sleeping upstairs. He does a few chores quietly, knowing the man will soon come down. What he doesn’t expect is his dad stumbling down the stairs, barely twenty minutes after Stiles has arrived home, while wearing his police uniform.

Stiles is looking through a cookbook, searching for a recipe when he hears his dad. He’s shocked by the sight. “Uh… Are you going to work? I thought you had a night shift. And your schedule says you have today and tomorrow off…”

Noah sighs and it’s impossible to miss the dark circles beneath his eyes. Even his hair is limp, like he didn’t even bother with a shower before going into bed

“Change of plan. Found another dead body last night,” he admits as he stands, unseeing, in the kitchen. Stiles feels his heart beating faster at the revelation. “A man this time, and with the other murder we still haven’t solved… Well. It’s still early, and the woman at least indicated an animal attack, but… It’s fishy.”

Stiles nods, uneasy. Beacon Hills is a calm town. Having two murders in less than a week is very unusual and worrying.

Noah rubs a hand across his face. He sighs again before settling his eyes on his son. “Well. I’ll be going now.”

And with that, Stiles finds himself alone again. That evening too seems endless.

***

Friday morning, Stiles doesn’t see his dad again. Overtime, twice in a row, while his dad should have a day off. That day is very similar to the last one. Scott avoids him. Stiles isn’t focusing in class, except for that damn test. The strange man is still outside the window.

The only major difference is when Stiles comes back home. He tiptoes up the stairs to see if his dad is still sleeping. As silently as he can, he pushes the door to his dad’s room open and what he sees breaks his heart.

After all this time, Stiles should be used to it. Part of him doesn’t even know why he believed in his dad so readily. He wanted to, he guesses. He wanted his dad… not to get over his mom, but at least learn to cope. And while the many empty cans of beers left on the nightstand might not be there because Noah is grieving his wife this time around, it still shows that the man always turns to alcohol when times get harder.

Stiles closes the door and stares at the piece of wood for a long time.

He is… angry. But also resigned. He got a few interesting days, but he has to be realistic here. He isn’t… Lydia Martin. Or Jackson Whittemore. He isn’t ever going to be the center of attention. His purpose in life is to work in the shadows and make sure that the people around him can function. He doesn’t get support or… or proper love.

With that soul crushing thought, he turns away from his dad’s room and settles into his chores, exactly the way he does every single day. Return to the routine, really.

Just like yesterday, his dad wakes up not long after, though with bloodshot eyes, and with his uniform on.

“Another murder last night,” Noah mumbles under his breath and, without a goodbye, leaves the house.

Stiles sighs and with a heavy heart, he settles back into what is his normal life. Just like he has always done, he goes up into his dad’s room to collect and dispose of the empty beer cans.

The next day, after finding his dad drunk once again, he isn’t surprised to learn that there has been yet another murder. Four murders in less than two weeks and Stiles… well. Part of him resents the victims for not being strong enough, for fucking dying and for… for… for ruining whatever progress his dad had made. The other part, the larger one, just grows number and number every time Scott clearly avoids him. Every single time his dad takes another sip of alcohol.

He shuts his brain off and just… goes through the motion of life.

***

The man tries. He tries so hard to focus on his goal. He thinks he has suffered enough in the last few years to be justified in his revenge and, goddamn, he wants that revenge so bad!

But… he hadn’t expected finding his soulmate. Not after all this time. Not after everything he has done also. And it’s that last bit that rankles the most. Because… how can he have gotten this far… only to back down now?

He has to continue. He owes it to himself. To every fucking person that he had to watch die as they all burned. For a few days, he forces himself to remember the screams of his family as they suffered a painful death so that he can go through his plans.

Now, he lets himself be weak on the night of the full moon. After saving Scott from the boy’s own stupidity, he makes sure to tell the teen that Stiles is off limits. Stiles is  _ his _ and Scott better keep his distance, especially if he’s going to be a little bitch around his mate.

That’s the only moment he allows himself to falter though. He ignores his phone, despite wanting to call his mate. Instead, he goes out at night and kills his first victim. The next night, the second. And then the third…

It doesn’t bring him the satisfaction he thought he would feel. In fact, each murder makes him angrier and…. hallower. Even if he’s brutal with his victims, because, Christ, they fucking deserve it, it doesn’t change anything. They die and it doesn’t change the fact that almost everyone in his family is gone forever. Doesn’t change the fact that he still feels like he’s trapped in that fucking house, barely able to breathe through the smoke.

Worst of all, it doesn’t change the fact that he did something horrible, something he shouldn’t have done, to get his revenge. It wasn’t worth it. Not at all. And he’s pretty sure that his family would be very disappointed in him if they could see him. He knows; he has a hard time looking at himself in the mirror.

So, after his last victim dies, he finds himself at a crossroad. He can continue and keep going until he finds the ones he truly wants dead. Even if it doesn’t change anything about what happened, at least the people responsible for this tragedy won’t be able to hurt other werewolves. At least, it would somewhat justify his first crime, the only one he regrets.

Or… Or he takes up the fucking hint Fate seems to have sent his way. He found his mate. His mate! Werewolves rarely find them and he… he somehow did. He has a chance here, the chance to open a new chapter in his life. He can forget what happened, or, at the very least, move on.

He has lost a lot of years to this tragedy already. He knows he could get his revenge. After all, he’s good at strategy and deception. But that means spending even more time feeling miserable and he…

He wants Stiles.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before leaving the dead body of his latest victim on the ground. He needs to take a shower. And after that… well, he’ll start his new life.

***

Stiles has been having nightmares for the last few nights. He hasn’t had that many nightmares in a long time and he knows it’s caused by his dad’s drinking.

The only small blessing he has is that his dad seems to be stuck on night shift for now. That means less interaction between them. Stiles doesn’t actually  _ see _ his dad drinking, he just… finds him drunk off his ass.

And then he wants to hit himself. How is that a fucking blessing? If… If he were stronger, he’d be there for his dad and he’d stop the man from drinking in the first place. But no. He doesn’t do anything. He’s a coward and it doesn’t matter that his dad drinks when he’s at school or when he’s sleeping. He should be there for his dad. He  _ has _ to be there for his dad.

But try as he might, he can’t force himself to stay home from school or to stay awake at night. He’s numb. He’s useless. He’s a waste of space.

He feels terrible, so he cleans to forget. He uses so many products that he actually succeeds in masking the smell of alcohol in the house. His hands suffer though. The skin feels scaly and it cracks in a few places, especially over his knuckles. He knows he should use some cream to appease the pain, but he feels like he deserves the hurt, so he leaves the cream untouched in the bathroom.

So he’s… fine by day. He’s occupied enough that he’s able to somewhat shut out his thoughts and emotions. But at night, everything resurfaces. His fears, his hurt. He dreams about finding his dad’s corpse in his room. He dreams of attending to his dad’s funeral. He dreams about how lonely he is. He dreams about being invisible and stuck in his house.

He’s a ghost. He’s alive right now, but, really, he’s already dead. No one sees him. No one wants him. No one cares for him. He’s all alone and no one loves him enough that he can depend on them.

Those thoughts are what wakes him up in the middle of the night in crying fits. He’s disoriented, feels awfully tiny, and the only thing he wants is someone to hear his cries for help. No one comes. There aren’t any arms to encircle him or shushing voice to calm him down.

He only has his bunny. And his pacifier. Part of him feels even sadder that the only things he can depend on are inanimate objects. The larger part is glad that he at least has this. He greedily sucks on the pacifier as he rubs his face against his soft bunny. He hugs the toy close to him and slowly, but surely, the tears taper off. His breathing slows down, going from frantic hyperventilation to miserable sniffles and he falls back asleep, feeling utterly exhausted.

Knowing that he doesn’t have to wake up early on the weekend, Stiles dreads the night even more. He stays awake as long as he can, hoping that he’ll be too tired to dream. It brings mixed results on the night between Friday and Saturday. He goes to bed around one in the morning and though he doesn’t actually wake once in the night, he still gets horrible nightmares and by seven, he gets out of bed.

So the next night, he stays up even longer. At around two in the morning, he can’t keep his eyes open. He feels so tired, having poorly slept the night before, but he dreads the dreams.

He takes a cold shower, hoping to stay awake for a bit longer, but he feels himself growing cranky. He whines under the horrible temperature as he rubs his eyes. He initially wanted to wash properly, but now, just the thought of actually going through the motion of washing his body and hair, it makes him want to throw the shampoo bottle out of the shower.

A strange, unsettling kind of energy crackles under his skin. He feels awfully tempted to reach for the bottle, but with one last whine, he shuts the water off and climbs out of the shower. He dries himself fast and simply drops the towel on the ground instead of folding it and hanging it properly. He even leaves his clothes in the bathroom, too annoyed with everything to care. He knows he’ll care in the morning. He’ll fucking berate himself in the morning. But right now?

Now, he feels… weird. He feels cranky, small, angry and he just… He wants his bunny. And he wants to sleep. But he doesn’t want the nightmares.

Stiles whines angrily, the sound much higher than he would normally make. The strange energy crackles again under his skin, but he forces himself to walk into his room and barely takes the time to put on his pyjama. Then he quickly goes to his bed because it’s either that or a panic attack. Or, more accurately, a temper tantrum, which would be embarrassing.

He grabs his bunny and stuffs his pacifier in his mouth without a second thought. He’s past trying to pretend he doesn’t need these things to sleep properly. And, anyway, it’s not like anyone wants him or would want him, so who cares what he does? No one will ever see him sleep.

With that final thought, Stiles closes his eyes and barely a few seconds later, he succumbs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST. Lots of angst here. This isn't the most interesting chapter in my opinion because it helps to transition to the next part of this story, so... yeah. Next chapter, we finally get to know what's going on! Hope you're excited.
> 
> I wanted to just say though... If you relate to Stiles in this story, if you feel like you're so alone and lonely despite being surrounded by people that you love... talk. Just go talk to them. I know it depends on the situation, but more often than not, those people just don't know how you feel. They aren't mind readers and if you keep everything inside and hide your troubles behind a smile, they're never going to guess how bad you actually feel.
> 
> It might be scary the first time. Or you might think that it's just so silly, no one will care. It doesn't change the fact that you DON'T feel good though. So talk because it is worth it. No one will be able to save you if they aren't able to see the warning signs. Save yourself. Break the chain and just see how easy it is once you finally dared to speak up. You'll find that people do care about you and they will make the adjustments to make you happier.
> 
> ... That's the little nugget of wisdom I wanted to partake. Anyway! Until next time!


	7. Chapter 7

_ My dad is dead… _

Stiles shudders as he bends down in the living room to pick up an empty beer bottle. He puts it in the garbage bag he’s holding. He needs to clean the place. People are going to come here after the funeral and Stiles can’t possibly let them see the place. There are empty beer cans everywhere in the house. So much so, he can’t even see the floor.

He picks another can, throws it in the bag. His limbs are so heavy and the cans are burning hot. It feels like they’re prickling the skin of his palms open and, as he handles them, he hears them in his head.

_ You did nothing… _

_ It’s your fault he’s dead… _

_ You useless piece of trash… _

_ You should be the one that died… _

Stiles sobs at the harsh words but he accepts them. He keeps picking every single can, but there doesn’t seem to be any end to the task. He feels like he’s swimming through the cans. They now burn every piece of skin they can touch. The voices are endless.

_ What good are you? Your dad is dead… It’s your fault! I can’t believe you did nothing… Something is wrong with you… Did you like seeing your dad wasting away? Worms will eat his flesh… He’s DEAD… You coward! He hated you… He died in his vomit… Did you clean his corpse properly? _

Stiles can barely see through his tears though he doesn’t stop in his task.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry!” he sobs hysterically.

The voices don’t stop until he’s done picking up the beer cans. Stiles is almost surprised with the silence, but shrugs it off, knowing he still has some things to do. He wipes his tears away and brings his garbage bag near the back door, to be brought out later. Then, he goes up in his room to put on a suit before coming back downstairs.

The living room is clean and trays of food are laid out on the coffee table. He doesn’t remember putting them there, but he knows people will want to eat a bit as they give him their condolences.

He just has to wait for them to arrive, so Stiles sits down on the sofa.

He waits. And waits. And waits. Time flows while still being static. It’s sunny outside but awfully gloomy in the house. Stiles doesn’t understand why no one has rung the doorbell. Surely the funeral is over by now?

Then he realises. He didn’t go to the funeral. He was so focused getting the house presentable, he fucking forgot about his father’s funeral!

Stiles jumps up and runs to the front door. He tries to twist the knob open, but it won’t budge. He pulls at the door and then throws his weight against it in the hope that he’ll be able to get out of here.

He doesn’t want to be in this house anymore. The family pictures are staring at him and they all look angry. They want him out, but they’re keeping him in.

He bangs his fists against the door and he screams as loud as he can. Barely a sound escapes him. There are no noise in here, he realises. There are no light. No hope. He’s stuck here, inside, where it is gloomy, miserable and lonely.

He tries to make more noise, but he knows it’s hopeless. He wants to be where it’s sunny and joyful, but there’s nothing there for him. Just like there is nothing and no one for him in this empty house.

That’s when he’s finally panics. Because he understands… There is NO ONE. No one at all. No one to see. No one to hear. No one to care. Now that his dad is gone… there is nothing left for him. He’s completely alone with his guilt, self-hatred and hopelessness.

He turns around, only to see that there are beer cans everywhere in the house again.

He screams.

***

Stiles wakes up with a strangled sob, feeling terrified out of his goddamn mind. This has been the worst nightmare so far and he… he… God, he doesn’t even know.

“Please,” he whimpers around the pacifier still stuck in his mouth as he feels tears sliding down his cheeks.

He doesn’t know what he’s begging for. He can only feel how shaky his limbs are and how warm and wet he is. He’s so sweaty, he feels disgusting. And… wait. Did he…

He barely has the time to realise that he pissed himself when he hears a sound coming from his window. He turns his head so fast he gets whiplash, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because there’s someone coming through his window in his room and it’s a man and he has red eyes and—

It’s Derek. Oh God. It’s Derek. He pissed himself and he has a pacifier in his mouth and he’s scared and Derek fucking sees him and… He thinks he’s going to be sick.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, his voice full of confusion.

The werewolf stands in his room, frozen on the spot, too surprised to even breathe. Stiles feels his blood rush to his face as shame settles heavily in his heart. He raises a hand out of his blankets with the plan to at least take the pacifier out of his mouth, but he ends up covering his eyes with his arm as a miserable whimper escapes him.

He is so,  _ so _ ashamed of himself…

“Stiles?” Derek repeats slowly.

Stiles doesn’t hear any hint of humor or disgust in the man’s voice, but he knows that doesn’t mean anything. Derek is… is… awesome. He doesn’t know why he thinks that since they barely passed any time together, but he’s sure Derek would never laugh at him in his face. It doesn’t mean Derek thinks he’s perfectly normal though.

“I’m sorry!” Stiles whimpers, his words barely comprehensible around his pacifier. The shame in him stabs through his gut and Stiles folds himself into a tight ball of limbs as his breath hitches. A sob escapes him and then another and he breaks down into tears.

“Oh, baby,” Derek breathes out as he walks forward.

Stiles hears him crouch down in front of him and then there’s a soft hand on his shoulder. He wants to feel comfort at the contact, but Derek is still so hesitant and the covers are wet and getting colder by the second and… Stiles whines and pulls his bunny on his face, feeling like it’s the only protection ha has against the man.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again. “I-I… I’m so sorry!”

“What for?” Derek asks, soothingly. He rubs his hand over Stiles’ shoulder and back.

The touch is grounding. “For… For… For being weird! I know I shouldn’t… shouldn’t need… shouldn’t want…”

Stiles can’t go further. His words are just so mixed up in his head, he can’t think straight. He’s starting to breathe too fast, but then Derek forces the bunny away from his face.

“Look at me, darling,” Derek says softly.

Stiles swallows heavily before finally meeting Derek’s eyes. He looks… calm. Kind. A bit alarmed, but not… disgusted. Stiles feels his panic slowly ebbing away.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks.

Stiles sniffles before shrugging. He knows exactly what’s wrong, but explaining everything… it seems too daunting a task. He can’t… properly structure everything. The words are just not there.

Thankfully, Derek seems to understand. “Is it because you feel embarrassed? Of your stuffed toy and pacifier?”

Stiles blushes. At least the man doesn’t mention Stiles pissed himself. But Stiles knows Derek is able to tell. Werewolves have a keen sense of smell after all. “Yeah…”

“It’s alright, baby,” Derek cooes at him as he runs his fingers through Stiles’ sweaty hair. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed. I don’t mind them at all.”

Stiles isn’t sure he believes that and it must be clear on his face because Derek leans closer to plant a loud kiss on Stiles’ forehead. The silly gesture is so unexpected that Stiles is struck dumb.

“In fact, I think you’re adorable.”

Stiles blinks and reaches his forehead with his fingers. Something in him feels hope. Maybe… Maybe Derek is stating the truth… Well, he hopes Derek is being truthful.

Derek smiles at him before gently removing his blankets. Stiles makes an alarmed noise, not wanting Derek to see the wet spots where he pissed himself.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re feeling quite icky right now, so how about we get you in a bath? Would you like that?”

Stiles takes a few breaths before nodding. He does want to get out of his wet cover. Derek smiles before completely removing the blankets and then, without any effort, he gently grabs Stiles under his armpits to haul the teen into his arms.

The movement isn’t expected. Stiles thought Derek would simply help him stand up. Not prop Stiles on his hip like the teen weighs nothing.

“Derek!” Stiles yelps, surprised. He doesn’t want to soil the man’s clothes too… Did Derek really not notice the smell?

Stiles has to wrap his arms and legs around the man as he’s being sat on Derek’s hip. At the same moment, Derek freezes completely and Stiles has to acknowledge the fact that Derek really somehow didn’t notice that Stiles pissed himself. His mortification is starting to creep up on him again.

“Baby…” Derek starts slowly, a grimace on his face. “I don’t really know how to say this, but… I lied to you.”

Stiles feels his heart starting to beat awfully fast. Oh God. This is… This is even worse. Why isn’t Derek letting him down? He wants to squirm until the man lets go of him, but he’s too shocked to even think about moving.

“The first time we met,” Derek continues, uneasy. “I told you my name is Derek, but… it’s actually Peter. Peter Hale. I’m, uh… Derek is actually my nephew.”

Stiles… isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t sure he understands either. His thoughts are still a bit disjointed and he feels bone tired… He knows he’ll have some questions at some other time though.

“Okay…” he mumbles around his pacifier. He should take it out of his mouth, he thinks, but he ends up suking on it instead.

Peter chuckles lightly, looking fondly at the teen in his arms. “Not the time for that conversation, huh? That’s alright. You’re just a sweet little boy right now, isn’t that right?”

Stiles feels himself flush and he can’t help himself but hide his face in the crook of Peter’s neck, where he feels safe. He shrugs.

“And that’s also a discussion for another time,” Peter says as he rubs Stiles’ back. “Right now, we need to put you in a bath, baby.”

***

Peter feels shaky, he’s not going to lie. When he made his decision, barely an hour ago, to let go of the past so that he can start a new life with his mate… he never would have thought that Stiles needed him this much. Had he known two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have even started his revenge.

He could hear Stiles whimper because of his nightmare. He could even smell how terrified the teen was through the window! The last time he smelled someone as scared was when his family was dying around him and with that thought, it was no wonder he decided to go in the boy’s room to comfort Stiles.

Now, it was a surprise to see that Stiles slept with a stuffed toy as well as a pacifier. But then, he saw how Stiles reacted to him and his questions and… heck, Peter is well enough versed in the BDSM world to see that Stiles might be a Little and that he desperately needed some help. Help that Peter is more than glad to give.

And now that he has the teen propped on his hip, he has to admit that he… feels more than that. Sure, it feels good to help his mate, no questions about that, but there’s also… well, he isn’t too sure. It’s like something has finally settled in his chest. Like, all this time, he has just been craving for something, some sense of belonging or maybe some sense of stability, and he finally has it.

And when he thinks about it? It makes a lot of sense. He needs control, always has, even before the fire. But since the tragedy, Peter has been stuck in coma for six years, something almost unheard of for a werewolf. As days passed, he felt his pack bonds growing thinner and thinner because the few pack members he still had had run away from the town he was still trapped in without a second thought.

Needless to say, Peter had time to stew in his own thoughts for a long time. Those thoughts that kept growing darker and darker as he slowly but surely felt himself becoming an omega, packless, until those bonds finally did snap.

Peter isn’t a kind man, but even he would never wish this torture on anyone else. It kills something inside of him to know that Stiles isn’t a stranger to what Peter has lived when he was still in a coma. But Peter is there now. His body works fully. His mind is settled by the presence of his mate. And his heart… well, taking care of Stiles as a Little could be the balm his heart needs to heal.

_ If _ Stiles wants to pursue this kind of relationship, of course, but something inside of Peter tells him that this is what they’re supposed to have, what they’re supposed to be.

With this last thought, Peter rubs a hand down Stiles’ back as he walks out of the teen’s room and into the hallway. He hasn’t heard any sound in the house, indicating that there isn’t anyone else here.

He heads inside the bathroom and carefully closes the door behind him before settling Stiles on the toilet’s closed lid. He loathes parting with the boy, but he knows Stiles really needs this bath if the stain on his own shirt from handling the teen is anything to go by. Peter kind of wants to bathe  _ with _ Stiles, but he’s pretty sure that’s too much too soon.

Peter pushes the temptation from his mind and busies himself by pushing some dirty clothes and a wet towel from the middle of the ground to a corner so that they aren’t in the way. By the scent of them, Peter knows Stiles took a shower barely a few hours ago. Then, he plugs the bath and turns the faucets on, letting water fill the tub. When he’s sure the water is at the right temperature, Peter walks back to Stiles.

The boy is sucking on his pacifier as he tiredly rubs a hand over his eyes. It’s clear to see that Stiles is beyond exhausted. A part of Peter is angry. He wants to tear the people that have hurt his little boy and make sure that they never see light again. Another part can’t help but think that Stiles is adorable.

He tries to focus on that thought since he did decide to turn a new leaf. He crouches in front of Stiles, ignoring the sharp smell of pee, and takes hold of the boy’s free hand in his. Peter can’t stop himself from touching the sweet teen it seems.

“We need to take your clothes off, baby. Can you stand up for me?” Peter asks softly.

Stiles blinks slowly but eventually nods when the words finally register. Peter stands and helps Stiles up. When it’s clear that the boy isn’t going to strip without help, Peter doesn’t hesitate. He tugs the shirt above Stiles’ head before pushing down the boy’s pyjama bottoms.

Stiles doesn’t seem bothered with being naked in front of Peter. It pleases the man, though he’s pretty sure Stiles isn’t completely aware of what’s happening.

“Alright, darling,” Peter says. “In we go.”

With a careful hand, Peter leads Stiles towards the bath. Stiles doesn’t resist, sitting down in the water as soon as he’s in the bathtub. He doesn’t react to the temperature, so Peter has to assume that the boy is comfortable.

“You soak in there a bit while I clean up, alright?” Peter says quietly as he runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair. It’s so short, it doesn’t really fit the boy. Peter hopes Stiles will grow them out.

Stiles nods sluggishly as he stifles a yawn.

Peter smiles, then stands up. He removes his stained shirt and drops it on the floor, along with Stiles dirty pyjama, before standing near the sink. He rummages through a few drawers and cupboards before finding a hand towel.

He quickly wets the cloth in the sink before bringing it to his stomach and hip. Then, he takes the bar of soap and cleans the same area before washing the suds away with the hand towel once more.

Once done and satisfied with his cleanup, Peter takes the clothes and leaves the bathroom. He thinks about throwing them in the washing machine, since it’s the responsible thing to do, but that means staying in the Stilinski household for at least two more hours and Peter doesn’t want to do that. Stiles needs to sleep, but the boy’s mattress is ruined and Peter isn’t fond of sleeping in Noah’s bed with the man’s son.

No. Peter is going to bring Stiles with him to his apartment and the stained clothes can make a final trip in the trash can. Peter doesn’t have a problem providing another pyjama to replace his mate’s old one.

Once Peter has gotten rid of the clothes, he makes his way back to the bathroom where he finds Stiles still unmoving in the bath. Normally, he’d give Stiles some privacy, but the poor boy seems so out of it that Peter can’t leave him alone.

“Are you doing okay, baby?” he asks.

Stiles looks up to Peter, eyes blurry with how tired he is. “I want bunny,” he slurs around his pacifier.

Peter melts a bit inside. Just a bit. That’s why it hurts him to deny this adorable little boy. “Your bunny can’t come in the bath with you, darling. It’ll get all wet. But I tell you what, as soon as we’re out of the bathroom, I’ll bring it to you. Does that sound good?”

Stiles frowns as his face reddens. He looks down as he removes the pacifier from his mouth. “I… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I know I shouldn’t…”

Peter quickly walks further into the bathroom and crouches in front of Stiles. He rests his elbows on the edge of the bathtub before gently pushing the pacifier back into Stiles’ mouth. “Baby, what did I say earlier?” Peter chides Stiles softly. The goal here isn’t to make the boy feel bad. Peter just wants him to understand how perfectly fine this is.

“I’m adorable?” Stiles asks, his eyes wide with innocence and maybe a hint of cheekiness.

Peter chuckles as he cups Stiles’ face in his palms. “Yes, you are. And it’s fine if you want your pacifier and your bunny. In fact, it would also be perfectly fine if you wanted other baby things, like a sippy cup or onesies or even diapers.”

Stiles eyes open even wider, if that’s possible. His pupils also dilate and the sheer want in Stiles’ face is undeniable. But then Stiles looks down again before shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, baby… There’s absolutely no shame in wanting these things,” Peter tries to reassure Stiles. He’d say more to convince the boy, but it’s awfully late and Peter isn’t sure Stiles is in the right headspace to even have this conversation. He sighs. “We’ll talk about this again but, for now, how about you let me take care of you?”

Stiles eyes flash up to stare at Peter, a look of barely concealed hope in them. “Me?” he asks.

Peter leans in and kisses the boy on the cheek. Partly because he wishes to shower Stiles in affection, but it’s also so that he can hide how aggressively possessive he feels in that moment. Because he  _ wants _ Stiles. It doesn’t matter how, as a Little or a lover or whatever. He just wants to possess the teen. To give him love and attention and care.

Stiles is his. Completely his and if someone even  _ dares _ to simply touch the teen, Peter is going to bite their hand off. Stiles is so completely his, Fate gave him to Peter as his mate and Peter will always, always,  _ always _ be there for Stiles and NO ONE will hurt him. Peter would rather cut off his own arm than—

Peter takes a deep breath, his nostrils filling with Stiles’ unique scent, and stops himself from his own spiraling thoughts. He leans back with a smile.

“Yes, baby. Now, do you want to wash by yourself or do you want some help?” Peter asks. He wants Stiles to be comfortable, but if the boy wants to do this by himself… Peter isn’t sure he’d be able to leave Stiles alone for long.

Stiles blinks then sucks at the nipple in his mouth. His breathing is deep, Peter notices, like the teen is already half-asleep. So it isn’t totally a surprise when the boy doesn’t say anything, simply rests his head against Peter’s shoulder.

Taking it for the hint that it is, Peter reaches to the soap in a small dish and he quickly dips it into the water before bringing it to Stiles skin. He starts washing the teens back. He makes sure to be gentle, but he also tries to be quick. Then, form the back, he goes to Stiles’s chest and underarms. He doesn’t hesitate to lift the teen a bit so that he can wash the boy’s bum and cock, but Peter is a bit anxious to see if Stiles will react in any way.

Fortunately, Stiles is too tired to even care that Peter is touching him in intimate places. Had he known Stiles would be so compliant, Peter might have bathed with the boy. Maybe some other time.

Peter puts the soap away and cups water in his hand as best as he can, pouring it down Stiles’ skin. Once he’s done, he leans away slowly, not wanting to jar Stiles, who was still resting his head on Peter’s shoulder.

The boy blinks confusedly, his eyelids heavy with sleep. Stiles reaches up to his eyes, most probably to rub at them, but as soon as his wet skin touches his skin, he jerks his hand away with a whine.

Peter shushes the boy before lifting Stiles up and out of the bath. He finds a random towel and quickly dries the boy. Seeing that Stiles is starting to smell like frustration and tears, Peter figures the teen is getting cranky with how tired he is.

“Come here, baby,” Peter says softly before propping Stiles up on his hip once more.

Peter walks out of the bathroom, into the corridor and back into Stiles’ bedroom. He sits the boy down on a clean part of the bed before turning towards a dresser. He opens a few cupboards until he finds underwear, soft pyjama pants and a baggy shirt.

When Peter turns again to face Stiles, he finds that the sneaky little boy grabbed his stuffed bunny. Stiles is rubbing his face against the fake fur and Peter isn’t sure his heart can take this much concentrated cuteness in such a short period. He pushes the feeling away though as he gets down on his knees in front of Stiles. He puts the boy’s feet through the holes of his underwear and then pyjama pants.

“Sweetheart? Can you stand up for me?” Peter asks.

Stiles makes a disgruntled noise but he complies. Peter quickly tugs the underwear and pyjama up his legs, making sure they sit comfortably on the boy’s hips. Stiles rapidly sits back down once Peter is done.

The werewolf picks up the shirt he set aside and carefully pulls the bunny out of Stiles arms. The boy isn’t happy about that and hugs the stuffed toy closer to his body with a desperate whine.

“It’s okay, baby,” Peter assures the teen. “I’ll give it back to you as soon as you have a shirt back on. Then, we’re going to go to my place with your bunny.”

Stiles lets go of the toy with a miserable sniffle. Peter can’t help but notice the moisture in the teen’s eyes as well as the smell of distress the boy is emanating. Stiles looks completely worn out, so Peter doesn’t waste any time helping the boy put on the baggy shirt.

“There we go, that’s better,” Peter says as he gives back the bunny.

Stiles hugs the toy close and buries his face in it. Peter grabs Stiles by the underarms and settles the boy on his hip before walking out of the room. Stiles doesn’t struggle, simply settles down, all warm and soft in Peter’s arms.

Peter sighs contentedly, wanting to keep Stiles in his arms forever. But he knows they have to keep moving if Stiles is ever to sleep in a nice clean bed, so he grabs a soft blanket from the sofa in the living room, which he drapes around the teen, and then the boy’s car keys.

Peter doesn’t have any trouble getting out of the house, locking the front door and settling Stiles in the Jeep. The boy is fast asleep and doesn’t even seem to realise he’s being moved.

As Peter climbs in the driver’s seat and then pulls out of the parking lot, he can’t help but feel glad that Stiles finally fell asleep. He doesn’t like to see the boy being so distressed, it makes him… possessive. It makes him want to snarl and rip the head off of anyone responsible for his sweet boy’s misery.

… It makes him realise how strong those soulmate instincts really are. Despite not knowing much about Stiles, Peter can hardly believe how invested he already is in the boy’s wellbeing. But he isn’t backing down, that he knows for sure. Magic might be pushing them together at this point, but he knows enough about the occult to know that this kind of magic is pure. It’s the kind of magic that can only bring happiness and love.

Peter was a fool to ignore the tug that pulled him in Stiles’ way the last few days. But he’s here now. He’ll take care of Stiles. He’ll bring him home, wipe those tears away, give him the best hugs and he won’t let him go.

Stiles also deserves to be spoiled. Peter is sure the boy will resist him, think he isn’t worth it, but Peter knows for a fact that the boy is worth the most precious treasure. He deserves to have what he wants and if Stiles wants to be a Little, then Peter is going to make sure it happens.

The drive to Peter’s house takes them on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, near the woods, but far from Derek. Peter parks the car in his driveway and brings the teen into his cozy house. He bought the place quickly and while it isn’t up to Peter’s standards, the decor not modern enough to his tastes, he’s pretty sure Stiles will like how homey it feels.

He brings Stiles into his bedroom and carefully lays the boy on the mattress. Stiles hums, content, while Peter pulls the cover over him. Peter takes a second to admire his soulmate. He really wants to join Stiles, maybe even spoon the beautiful boy…

But Peter has one last thing he wants to do before going to bed and he’s sure Stiles will appreciate what he has in mind. So without further ado, Peter leaves the bedroom. He walks into his office, sits down at his desk and opens his laptop. He has to buy a few things…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am especially proud of Stiles' dream in the beginning O.O I hope you liked it! :D
> 
> So! Just to make things clear, every time Stiles was talking to 'Derek' it was actually Peter. The scenes where we saw Derek alone, it was truly Derek. The scenes where there was a man unspecified (where I didn't actually give a name), it was Peter!
> 
> All in all, it means that Derek and Stiles haven't even met in this story yet! Tell me what you think of this story if you want. I really enjoy reading your comments! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received a comment about how Stiles isn't really coping well with his own situation. I can understand why people would think that, so I adjusted the tags, adding 'Unhealthy coping mechanisms'. I hope no one got uncomfortable while reading this story.
> 
> Anyway. On with this new chapter!

When Stiles wakes up the next morning, he feels disoriented. His bed isn’t normally this comfortable. Nor are his pillow and blankets.

Confused, Stiles opens his eyes. The walls he sees aren’t familiar. His walls aren’t painted a pale blue. He also doesn’t have decorative paintings in his room. Or soft looking rugs. He isn’t at home.

Shit. He isn’t  _ home. _

But he has his bunny in his arms and his pacifier is still in his mouth and...

He doesn’t understand. Worse, he’s starting to feel scared. He breathes faster as he tries to remember how he got here. It’s still so vague in his mind. He remembers being so tired he wanted to cry but—

Stiles hears a few hurried footstep before the bedroom’s door suddenly opens. Derek… no. Peter. Peter Hale. He’s standing in the doorway and Stiles can’t help but think back to the man’s revelation. Peter told him he’d been lying about his identity. Why? He even said he pretended to be his own nephew. Do they look a lot alike or something?

“Sweetheart? Are you all right?” Peter asks, his voice concerned.

Stiles blinks once before sitting up in the bed. He quickly takes the pacifier out of his mouth to push it against his stuffed bunny… and that’s when he clearly remembers that he woke up last night because he had a nightmare. He woke up only to find that he’d pissed himself and that Peter had seen it all. The man even gave him a bath!

“Oh God,” Stiles says as he buries his head in his hands. He is so ashamed. He can’t believe Peter saw him like that. He can’t believe he let himself act so… so… childishly!

“Hey, hey, honey,” Peter says soothingly as he walks closer to him. Stiles feels the bed shift as the man sits down besides him. “What’s going on?”

“I…” But Stiles can’t finish this sentence. Somehow, saying it out loud seems even more ridiculous and he doesn’t even think he can actually endure that.

“Oh, darling,” Peter breathes out as he envelopes Stiles in his arms. “It’s alright. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Stiles melts in the hug. He doesn’t remember the last time someone hugged him so tenderly. Peter’s arms are strong around him. His hands are warm as they run up and down Stiles’ back and the teen can’t help but hug the man closer. He craves this. Needs this feeling of safety and love and it’s crazy but now, more than ever, he feels this… this connection they have.

Stiles knows he isn’t imagining things. There  _ is _ something between them. Something is pulling them together and he can’t be the only one feeling it. Heck, werewolves exist, so who says there isn’t a magical explanation behind this bond he feels?

Because it isn’t normal to feel this… this… good in the presence of a near stranger. It’s also strange to feel this enamoured with a man that might even be twice his age.

“There we go, darling,” Peter rumbles as he nuzzles Stiles’s neck.

Stiles is unable to stop the soft moan that escapes him as he leans his head sideways, giving Peter more space. The werewolf seems to be breathing him in as well as scenting him and Stiles is pretty sure that if Peter decided he wanted to have sex right now, Stiles wouldn’t stop him. His cock is stiffening and he desperately wants to grind against something…

But then Peter finally leans away to look into Stiles’ eyes. He has a gentle smile on his face. “I was about to come and fetch you. I made breakfast. I hope you like omelets.”

Stiles ducks his head as blood rushes to his head. Peter made him breakfast? When’s the last time someone actually made him food? He doesn’t know, but it makes him feel so special. It shows that Peter cares.

“Yeah… I do,” Stiles says with a nod and a shy smile.

Peter hums happily before cuping Stiles’s face and pressing a soft kiss on his temple. It makes something flutter pleasantly in Stiles’ stomach.

“Good,” Peter says as he stands up. He seems to hesitate a second. “Do you want me to carry you to the kitchen?”

Stiles is now awake enough to see the hopeful glint in Peter’s eyes. He knows the man told him not to worry about, well, the stuffed bunny and pacifier. Stiles initially thought it was because Peter is an open-minded person. That he’s just… tolerant.

But Peter clearly  _ wants _ to carry Stiles.

The realisation is a blow. A good one, but it still steals his breath.

“Um,” Stiles mumbles. Despite this happy revelation, Stiles feels unsure and definitely overwhelmed. Because… well, what does this mean? Does Peter want him to act like a… like a baby? Does  _ he _ want to? Wouldn’t that become wrong and just plain weird eventually?

Stiles doesn’t know. He has to think about it. And make research. Lots and lots of research. He’s pretty sure he isn’t the only one that likes baby stuff and while he tried to avoid the topic as much as he could before, he now thinks he needs more information to make a decision.

Uh, that is, if there’s a decision to make.

“I can… I can walk,” Stiles says, knowing he’s sporting the biggest blush ever.

Peter deflates a little but he doesn’t look disappointed. “You’re right,” Peter agrees with a smile. “You must have a few questions too, so let’s take care of that while we eat, alright?”

Stiles nods and stands up. He gives one last longing look to his stuffed bunny before following Peter and leaving the room. They walk into a corridor, which is open to the rest of the house. Stiles notices how… warm the home is. The furniture is all made of darkly stained wood and the walls are painted in creamy colors. There also seems to be an abnormal amount of pillows in the living room, making it look even comfier.

They end their journey in the kitchen and Peter makes Stiles sit at the small table. The cutlery and the plates are already set and Stiles doesn’t have to do anything, except wait for Peter to put food in his plate.

Stiles isn’t going to lie. Being this idle makes him feel a bit twitchy, but it mostly makes him feel appreciated.

Peter brings a pan from the oven and he pushes a folded omelet into Stiles’ plate with a spatula before pushing the other one in his own plate. Stiles waits for Peter. He watches as the man leaves the empty pan on the oven before the man sits down besides him. Only then does Stiles pick up his fork to break a section out of the omelet before bringing the small bite to his mouth.

Flavours explode in his mouth and he is ready, right there and now, to die happily. This is the most delicious thing Stiles has ever eaten, hands down. It doesn’t taste like an omelet. It tastes like freaking heaven.

“Oh my God,” Stiles moans. “This is so good. I don’t know what you put in there, but it must be magic.”

Peter snorts and coughs around his food before sending Stiles an amused glance. “I only put normal ingredients, I promise. I’ll admit I like to make food fancy though. I put onions, brocoli, pancetta, swiss cheese, a lot of spice and my secret ingredient: beer.”

The mention of beer makes Stiles twitch, but he easily ignores it. He has used alcohol in a few recipe. It really helps bring out the flavour.

“It’s delicious,” Stiles tells him.

“Thank you.” Peter smiles. “Now, I’m guessing you have some questions?”

Stiles nods. He has several, to be quite honest. He notices that Peter seems a bit apprehensive though. So maybe… start with an easy question? Not that there really is one, but…

“There’s… something… between us, right? I’m not imagining things. Ever since I met you, I’ve felt this sort of… pull towards you. And, I mean, it’s weird how comfortable I feel around you. I barely know you and I… I feel like I couldn’t live without you.”

Okay, so, maybe Stiles didn’t mean to say all that, because it kind of sounds crazy when said out loud, but he knows deep down that this is the truth. He has horrible nightmares about his dad dying, but those would be sweet dreams compared to the scenarios he knows his mind would cook at night if Peter ever were to completely disappear from his life.

Peter swallows a mouthful of omelet. His shoulders have unclenched, probably because Stiles hasn’t asked the most obvious question first.

“Well,” Peter starts as he gently places his fork on the table. He turns to face Stiles fully. “As you might have guessed, if werewolves exists…”

Stiles ends the sentence for Peter, already knowing where the man is going with his thought. “Then magic exists too?”

Peter smiles brilliantly. “Exactly. Magical creatures tend to attract other types of magic especially around their own birth. These other types of magic or more often than not benign and of little consequences. But sometimes, we attract the kind of magic that gives us great gifts. I guess it means I was lucky enough to be touched by one of those.”

Stiles knows Peter is trying to answer his question as gently as possible, so as not to shock him. Stiles isn’t sure if it’s actually working. It feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest.

“So… this means…” he asks, breathlessly.

Peter inhales. “It means that Fate decided to gift us both with love. This pull we’re both feeling, it’s because we’re soulmates.”

At that last word, Stiles freezes. His eyes are locked on Peter. He sees how earnest the man is, how concerned he is for Stiles. The teen stops breathing for a few seconds… before he starts hyperventilating.

“Stiles?” Peter asks, worried. He brings his chair closer to the boy. “Stiles? It’s alright, sweetheart, breathe for me.”

But Stiles can’t. He’d… He’d  _ resigned _ himself. He thought for sure he would be alone all his life. He would have to take care of his dad while he watched his own life pass him by. And when his dad died… what would be left for him?

He had thought, for sure, nothing. He was convinced his life would be meaningless, but here Peter is, telling him that he wouldn’t have to be alone after all?

That’s when the tears begin to fall. Stiles chokes on his own breathing and he’s about to curl in on himself when he feels hands grab him underneath his armpit. For a short second, he feels weightless, right until Peter sits him down on the man’s lap. Then, Peter hugs him and shushes him.

“It’s alright, my darling, it’s alright. Just breathe with me. Slowly. Yes, that’s it.”

Peter keeps telling him encouraging words and it really helps Stiles to calm down. 

“There we go,” Peter says softly, once Stiles has stopped hyperventilating. “I’m sorry I upset you…”

Stiles shakes his head at that. “Oh, wow. No. No, I’m not upset, not at all,” Stiles says as he wipes his tears away. He smiles shakily. “I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea. I don’t…” Stiles’ breath stutters. He hates even thinking about it, so saying it out loud is hard. “I don’t want to be alone. I’m so scared of being alone… And now you’re telling me I’ll always have you?”

_ It’s like a dream come true. _

Peter hums and hugs the teen tighter. He drops a kiss to Stiles’ head. “Oh, baby. Of course you’ll have me. Soulmate bonds are typically the romantic type, but it can be whatever you want it to be. One thing is certain, I’ll never leave you, sweetheart.”

Stiles thinks his heart is going to beat out of his chest with how fast it’s going. This promise means a lot to him, but also… well.

“How… How old are you?” Stiles has to ask.

Peter nuzzles Stiles’ hair before leaning back. “I’m thirty-four.”

The number is like a slap to the face. Stiles can’t believe Peter is actually that old. He thought for sure Peter might be ten to twelve years older. But eighteen? That’s… a lot. Almost two whole decades. He feels himself deflating a bit.

“Oh… uh. I guess you wouldn’t be very interested in a sixteen-year-old boy,” Stiles says, self deprecatingly.

“How so?” Peter asks him. He looks like he knows where Stiles is going with this, but wants Stiles to say it out loud either way.

Stiles swallows hard, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Well. I mean. I’m sixteen. You’re thirty-four. I understand why you don’t want to date me. I-I mean. Yeah. It might be a different kind of bond, right? Like, uh, maybe it’s a deep friendship type of bond, yeah?”

Stiles realises he’s talking too much. He was trying for casual but he so didn’t make it. Peter is looking at him with this impenetrable look in his eyes and he has to be wondering why the heck Stiles even thought about a romantic relationship between them in the first place. Stiles feels like punching himself with how stupid it was to even think of the notion.

But then, Peter gently pulls Stiles closer by the back of his neck and their lips meet. The touch doesn’t stay innocent either. Peter kisses like he’s a drowning man and Stiles is a breath of fresh air.

His kisses are harsh, yet gentle. Stiles feels Peter’s whiskers against his own face. He feels every nip of Peter’s teeth on his lips. But he also feels Peter’s hand as they reverently slide down Stiles’ back and Stiles feels so… wanted.

Peter backs away from the kiss way too soon in Stiles’ opinion. At least he looks as affected as Stiles feels.

“Darling… I really do want you,” Peter tells him. “It would be wise to remember that I’m a werewolf. No matter how civilised I act, my… instincts are similar to that of a wolf and very strong too. I don’t care about your age. I have a hard time remembering it actually. You’re my mate and that’s all I care about.”

Peter stops there. It’s clear however that he isn’t finished and that what’s to follow isn’t going to be pleasant.

“But?” Stiles prompts the man.

Peter sighs unhappily. “But before we decide what kind of relationship we want to have, I need to tell you a few things.”

The tone of the conversation has clearly changed and part of Stiles feels like he should go back to his own chair. The other part of him wants to stay as close to Peter as possible, craving the reassurance of the man’s touch, so he stays put.

Peter clears his throat. “Like I said last night, I lied to you about my identity.”

Stiles nods, anxious. A lie such as this can’t bode anything good, though he can’t imagine what Peter would have been up to.

“So… To understand everything, I need to tell you the story from the beginning. I used to have a big pack here. My sister, Talia, was the Alpha. But then, six years ago…”

Stiles inhales abruptly. He isn’t stupid, he heard about the tragedy in the Hale family. “Your house burned,” he whispers before he frowns, confused. “Wait, you were all werewolves, you should have smelled it.”

Peter huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Peter’s eyes are cold as ice. “That’s because we couldn’t leave the house. You see, not everyone likes werewolves. Some feel my species are a threat to them so they hunt us. There are hunters that follow a certain code of honor, but… not everyone abides by them.”

Stiles gasps as the story is slowly starting to unfold. He knows where this is going and it makes this horrible event even more tragic. “And this one… didn’t.”

Peter shakes his head. “No, she didn’t. She seduced my nephew and made him tell her everything about us and our home. Once she had enough information, she trapped us inside the pack house with wolfsbane and set the fire. We all tried to escape via a secret passageway in the basement, but that too was blocked.

“Derek and Laura survived because they were out that night. As for the ones that were in the house… I’m the only one still alive. We were five adults and we had seven pups—I mean kids—and they all died in this horrible, poisoned fire and I… I’m the only one who made it.”

Stiles doesn’t dare breathe. This tale is so much worse than he ever thought it would be. It is so… horrible… it feels like it isn’t real. Like Peter is talking to him about some movie plot. But it  _ is _ real. It’s fantastical and horrifying, but it’s real. He sees it in the way Peter’s eyes grow distant. How his hands a trembling slightly where they rest against Stiles’ lower back. How Peter’s face is so pale…

“I barely made it out though. I fell into a coma and I felt it as my nephew and niece left me behind. If they had stayed… maybe I would have been able to heal faster. But they didn’t and I stayed in a coma for six years as I felt our pack bond dissolve.

“I don’t think I can stress enough how terrible a torture it is to feel those bond slowly disappear. Every instinct I have was screaming at me to find my new alpha to secure my place in the pack, but I couldn’t fucking  _ move. _

“I… I lost it a bit. I was in so much pain all the time. I kept reliving the fire and I just wanted to make everything disappear. I wanted everyone that had a role in my pack’s death to pay for what they did.”

Stiles hesitantly reaches to Peter, unable to stop himself. Peter smiles sadly at him and takes Stiles’ hand in his, linking their fingers together.

“I became mad. And when I felt Laura and Derek come back in Beacon Hills, I… I knew I had to act. Because of their proximity, I was finally getting better but it wasn’t enough for what I wanted to do. I needed to be stronger, so I…”

Peter closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I killed Laura,” he says as his lower lip wobbles dangerously. “I don’t even know how I actually did it. One moment she was moving and talking and the next, she was dead. I was… I was  _ angry _ with her for leaving me and I wanted my revenge so much… They’d run away and had no idea what it actually was like down there in the fire. They didn’t see their siblings and cousins in there, screaming and terrified out of their minds.

“I gained her Alpha status and the power that comes with it. It helped me heal completely. I put the plan I’d been thinking about for six years into motion. I bit your friend to gain more pack members and I started to kill the people that were in on my pack’s murder.

“The only reason why I stopped… it’s because I finally met you. I… I guess the only reason why I felt I was still living up to that point was because I had to take revenge. But then you were there, and… well, I finally found something else worth living for.

“Don’t get me wrong, I hesitated a bit. Coming out of a six year coma with one conviction in mind… it’s hard to let go. But I did because I want to let go of the pass. I don’t expect you to forgive me or to even want me after all this, but I really needed to be honest with you.”

Peter then stops talking. He looks at Stiles like he holds Peter’s life in the palm of his hand. Stiles swallows.

He has been raised to follow the law. It has been set in place to protect all citizens, he knows. But he isn’t stupid. There are loopholes and there are a lot of innocent people that get wronged in many ways.

And those laws? Stiles is pretty sure they’re completely useless to magical creatures. No one is out there to protect them, that he knows. So why shouldn’t they protect themselves? Even if it’s in more… violent ways?

Stiles wouldn’t encourage violence. At the same time… if someone were to murder his dad or Scott or Peter… he knows he would lose it too. If the law couldn’t help him, he’d take matters into his own hands and he wouldn’t have the excuse of being stuck in his own mind for six years to explain his madness.

Peter has been tortured. For years. Who could blame him for acting this strongly once he was finally able to move? Stiles can’t find it in himself to feel sorry for the people he killed. Stiles doesn’t have sympathy for people that helped murder a whole family for no other reason than to kill some people.

The only thing Stiles can hold against Peter is the fact that he killed his own niece to gain her power. Then again, was Peter in full control of himself? It doesn’t seem like he was.

So with all that, how can Stiles ever judge Peter?

“Thank you for being honest,” Stiles says. “Is there anything else you need to share? Like… why you told me Derek was your name in the first place?”

Peter smiles hesitantly. “Oh, that. Well, I was hoping to frame my nephew for the murders. We don’t look exactly the same, but in the dark… we look similar enough that it would have passed.”

Stiles blinks. “That’s not very kind.”

Peter huffs. “Honestly, honey, I’m more of a bad man than a good one. But I would never do anything against you. You’re my life now, I’m not lying about that.”

“I know you aren’t,” Stiles says, knowing it deep down into his bones. Peter has only been kind to him so far. So, so kind, and he knows that everything Peter has done for him so far has come to the man naturally.

But… he has no trouble seeing Peter being very… protective. Maybe even a bit obsessive. And perhaps intense. Honestly, Stiles is pretty sure this should turn him off, but the only thing he can think of, is how Fate was right to make them soulmates. They’re the perfect fit. Because, when he thinks about Peter being obsessively protective about his family… and, okay, him too… well, it sounds more like loyalty than obsession to him.

Stiles swallows heavily at the thought, feeling a slow heat burning at the bottom of his stomach. “Any… Any other thing you need to tell me?”

Peter takes a second to think. “Well… I might have… done one thing.”

If that doesn’t sound ominous…

“What?” Stiles asks.

“On the night of the full moon. I might have told your friend to stay away from you,” Peter admits, not one ounce of regret to be seen on his face. “I didn’t like the way he was acting towards you that day we met. After you called me in tears, I figured he wasn’t the good kind of friend.”

“So that’s why Scott has been avoiding me,” Stiles says as dryly as he can. He wants Peter to feel bad a little. It hurt being ignored by his only friend, especially when Peter had been staying away from him.

“Uh, yeah.” Peter’s expression is blank.

Stiles can’t help the smile that appears on his face. He melts completely against the man, borrowing his head against the crook of Peter’s neck.

“I forgive you, Peter,” Stiles whispers. “Of course I forgive you. About everything.”

Peter doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs Stiles close to him, rocking them both softly. Stiles feels like he could fall asleep in those arms with how comfortable he is.

Their moment is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Stiles wants to whine in frustration. He doesn’t want Peter to go answer the door. He’s perfectly comfortable on Peter’s lap!

He really does whine when Peter puts him back on his own chair. Peter chuckles lightly as he runs a hand in Stiles’ hair. “I’m just going to answer the door. You finish eating your breakfast, alright? Then you can join me in the living room.”

Stiles nods, knowing Peter expects him to do as he’s told. With a huff, he lifts his fork and starts eating his omelet once more. It’s cold now, but no less delicious. He eats as fast as he can as he listens to Peter talking with the delivery man.

The stranger asks for a signature. There’s silence for a few seconds, most probably Peter signing, and then the man asks if Peter wants help putting the boxes inside the house, to which Peter accepts the offer. Stiles can’t help but wonder what this is all about. He always has been rather curious about everything.

There are only a few mouthful left and Stiles almost inhales them in his haste to follow Peter in the living room. Once he’s done eating, Stiles doesn’t even think about taking his dirty dishes to the sink. He just stands up and runs to the living room. The delivery man has left and Peter is opening one of the five big boxes now loitering around.

“What’s that?” Stiles asks, almost vibrating with how curious he feels.

Peter peeks inside the box, but he’s careful not to let Stiles see anything. Seemingly satisfied, he closes the box once more. He stands up and goes to sit on the sofa. He pats the place beside him invitingly. Stiles almost jumps to the sofa in his eagerness.

Peter chuckles as he puts an arm around Stiles shoulders, inviting the boy even closer. “So, there’s one last thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Peter says. “This is about last night.”

Stiles immediately feels himself growing a bit worried. Peter told him he didn’t have to be embarrassed about how he acted and Stiles is trying really hard not to be. But this conversation is starting to feel very ominous.

“Okay…”

Peter smiles at him. “No worries, my darling. I just really want to talk about this when you aren’t in the kind of headspace you were in last night.”

“Headspace?” Stiles asks, not sure what Peter is talking about. He hasn’t ever heard about headspaces, but he thinks he has an idea what Peter means. It’s true that last night his thoughts were… weird. Fuzzy. He had a hard time finding words and it almost felt like his thoughts were put on pause.

That was a real blessing, despite everything. Stiles knows he has ADD, but he hasn’t been taking medication like he should have since his mom died because… well, because his dad never took him to the doctor to renew his prescription. So his concentration tends to be all over the place. He’s either so lost in thought he barely even knows what’s going on anymore or he becomes hyper focused on the strangest thing.

But that… headspace he was in yesterday… it’s like his brain was finally allowed to simply slow down. Nothing was urgent. He didn’t have to think about what he had to do because Peter was there to do it for him. It felt really nice.

“Yes. You were probably thinking differently than normally, right? Maybe you felt a bit fuzzy? I know you looked like you had a hard time answering to my questions.”

Stiles blushes slightly. He remembers yesterday perfectly and it’s crazy to think how affected he’d been. “Yeah…”

“So that’s why we’re talking now, like that I can be sure you can consent or say no properly,” Peter finishes.

“To, uh, to what?”

“Would you like to roleplay with me?” Peter finally asks. He doesn’t give Stiles time to answer, sensing his confusion. “I think you liked how I took care of you last night. I think you like having your bunny and pacifier. I know I like it when you’re like that and I really want to take care of you when you’re feeling so Little.”

Stiles blinks, trying to understand it all. “So… we would roleplay. You mean, I would act like a…” He swallows with difficulty. “Like a baby. And you…”

“And I could be your Daddy,” Peter finishes the thought, not embarrassed. “Or your Caretaker if you prefer. We could play only when you need it or whenever we just want to.”

Stiles takes the information in as best as he can. “Wouldn’t it be weird?” he can’t help himself but ask.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Peter tells him with a smile. “You know, there are other people that play like that.”

“Yeah?” Stiles says, hope in his eyes. Part of him feels like he should say no to this because he’s a grown ass boy, but he wants this so much. He just needs… reassurance that he can have it.

“Of course. Age play is part of the BDSM world. It just means it’s a less common sexual practice. Not that it  _ has _ to be sexual, but it can be if we want it to be.”

“Huh…” Stiles says. He feels his fingers twitch, wanting to do some research on the subject. Because he needs more information, of course, before making a decision. He really wants to say yes, but he knows he shouldn’t be impulsive. Also… “But what if we try and I don’t like it?”

Peter doesn’t even blink. “Then we stop,” he says, like it’s the most simple thing.

“But what if we play from time to time for a while… Like, for a few months or years and then I decide I made a mistake and don’t like it anymore? Or you don’t want to do it?”

Peter runs a hand through Stiles hair and drops a kiss, trying to reassure his mate. “Baby, it’s alright to change your mind. It’s also alright to have a phase. We all have phases. It doesn’t mean it was a mistake. As for me? I don’t think you have to worry about that. I will always take care of you in whatever way. It’s part of who I am.”

Stiles feels himself calm down. It feels good being told he doesn’t have to be perfect. That he can have a phase if that’s what it is. It’s alright to want this…

“Can I make a bit of research before I give you an answer?” Stiles asks.

Peter smiles at Stiles like he hung the moon. “Of course, darling. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously. You can take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere. Now, do you want to watch a movie? We could—”

Stiles interrupts Peter, unwilling to change the subject. “Do you have a computer here? I really… Honestly, I want this. I liked it last night. Loved it, if I’m honest and I want more. But I just… I want to make sure I know what I’m getting into.”

Stiles watches as Peter’s pupils dilate. It makes him look like he wants to eat Stiles whole and Stiles is pretty sure he would let him if he really wanted to.

Peter leans in to plant a very short, scorching kiss on Stiles’ lips. It ends, once again, way too fast. “You’re so smart,” Peter says.

It makes Stiles blush. “Well, I mean. I don’t know enough on the subject, but…”

“I meant that you act smartly,” Peter says. “You want more information so that you can make the proper decision. I like that. Just wait here while I fetch my laptop.”

With that, Peter leaves the living room. Stiles waits for a few seconds only before the man comes back with a thin black laptop. He gives it to Stiles.

“I’ll let you do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going to go run outside for an hour, alright?”

Stiles nods before getting to work. He doesn’t even notice when Peter exits the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was pretty steady with my updates and I will try to continue that way. However, even though my country (Canada) is almost in total lockdown (in Québec, we're even more in lockdown if that's possible) because of Covid-19, university isn't over. I'm currently at the end of my semester, so that means projects, research and exams (all from my home of course). I'll be busy and since isolation has messed with my health (I'm prone to too many migraines in a month), my good days will be dedicated to my studies (when I don't decide to procrastinate and write my fanfic instead).
> 
> So sorry if my updates slow down! Once I'm done with school (and this is my last semester, so I'll be done with school FOREVER, yaaaay!), I know I'll be back to my weekly updates, no worries!
> 
> Like always, leave a comment if you wish to, I like to read them, know what you thought of my new chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

After an hour of research, Stiles is pretty sure his brain is about to explode. He has found so many blogs and websites all dedicated to ageplay. He also read about so many people, their experiences, theirs advices and their reasons for why they love what they do…

Stiles is really glad he had this hour to make his own research, though he knows he’ll spend many future evenings prowling the Web for more information. Still, this hour was enough for him to cement his decision. It’s so reassuring to know that he isn’t the only one that wants this kind of roleplay and it has calmed a part of his brain. He doesn’t want anyone but Peter to know about this part of their life, of course, and he doesn’t want to be judged for wanting to ageplay.

But after reading every hint of information he could find? He’s now very excited to get this show on the road. He wants to be free of every responsibility that has been unfairly pushed on his shoulders. He wants to do something fun. He wants to let Peter take care of him.

And, okay, he’s a bit scared he won’t know how to play. He has been trying for so long to hold everything together for his dad that he hasn’t done anything fun in a while. He’s also scared he’ll feel a bit silly if he can’t play. But he’s sure Peter will help him and that once he gets the hang of things, it’ll start to feel natural.

At least, he hopes so. The idea that he’ll screw this up makes Stiles rather anxious to be quite honest, but he’s trying as best as he can to push the feeling aside. Because Peter said it’s fine to change his mind if he finds out he doesn’t like it after all. And it’s also fine if he likes ageplay only for a little while.

It’s a hard concept to grasp, being allowed to not know something for certain. Allowed to make mistakes. Stiles has tried so hard for so long to make sure everything was perfect… But Peter is there to help him remove this difficult burden.

Stiles is brought back in the present when he hears the backdoor of the house opening then closing, indicating that Peter is back from his run. Stiles doesn’t hear the man as he walks in the house, but Peter quickly joins him in the living room.

Peter doesn’t look sweaty or even out of breath, but he does have a stray leaf in his hair and his naked feet are full of dirt. He smiles at Stiles though it’s impossible to miss the anticipation in his posture. “Did you find what you needed, darling?”

Stiles can’t help but feel his heart beat a tad faster at the endearment. He pulls his legs closer and hugs them against his body as his lips curve upwards. It’s so silly to react to the endearments now. Peter has called him those nice little nicknames ever since they met, so it’s nothing new but it just feels so… It feels good. Slash that, it feels fucking  _ great. _

“Yeah,” Stiles admits. “I think, um, I think I’d like to try this.”

Peter beams at him, like Stiles has just told him the best news he has ever heard. And maybe it is to him.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll just take a shower real quick and then we can look into those boxes.”

Stiles nods eagerly and Peter chuckles before leaving the living room. A few seconds later, he can hear the shower turning on.

Stiles has to take a deep breath then and he closes his eyes. His heart is still beating fast and there’s an uncomfortable pressure that’s starting to build in his chest. It’s stress. He knows there’s nothing to worry about but he isn’t a stranger to that emotion and his inability to reason with it. Stiles knows this is going to be a good thing. Even better, he knows he can say stop and Peter is going to listen. Peter isn’t even going to hold it against him.

It’s just that this is new. Stiles has this tendency to panic in front of new things and he has this little voice inside his head that tells him he can’t have nice things, he doesn’t  _ deserve _ nice things. It’s the voice that always guilts him into doing more. More chores, more studying, more work. That voice is screaming at him that this is wrong, he needs to go back home, he doesn’t have time to relax and have fun.

This voice is what has driven Stiles for years, but for the first time, he’s able to dissociate from it. He hears it and, yeah, it affects him a bit… But he isn’t alone. Peter is there, and they’re magically bound together. Peter is there and, for the first time in a long while, he feels at peace, like he has been drowning for years and now that Peter has saved him, he can finally breathe.

So Stiles does just that. He breathes deep and slow before exhaling. Again and again, right until the nasty voice in his mind evaporates into nothing. Only then does he open his eyes.

He sees the five boxes in the living room and his thoughts are quickly replaced with the mysterious objects they hold. Stiles is very curious and while he wants to wait for Peter to come back, he’s also dying of curiosity. And that, he knows, is just asking for trouble. He can hold out for a few more minutes.

Right?

Yeah, no. Stiles knows himself. There’s no way he’ll be able to stop himself if he stays in the living room. So with that knowledge, he jumps off of the couch and walks out. His eyes are drawn to the dirty footprints Peter left behind and he has the impulse to clean it up. And that brings up to mind the dirty dishes he left behind when Peter called him into the living room.

But if they are going to play… Stiles knows he doesn’t have to do those things. In fact, it’s not his job to do those chores when they play.

Well, uh, if they are playing right now of course, or if they’re about to. Stiles wants to play. He really, really wants to and, well, Peter seemed eager enough.

It’s this thought that makes Stiles walk to Peter’s bedroom. The sunrays are beaming through the windows, though not too aggressively, making the place look cozy. The bed is unmade and Stiles’ bunny and pacifier are left on the mattress, quite evident for anybody that walks in.

Stiles doesn’t hesitate. He climbs on the bed and grabs the two objects. The pacifier goes to his mouth and he rubs the bunny against his face. He sighs contentedly at the wonderful feeling of the fur against his skin. It’s just so soft, it helps him calm down the last tiny linger of unease.

He is ready for this. He really is.

The sound of the shower running abruptly turns off and Stiles slumps down in the covers. He turns to face the door and sucks on his pacifier, waiting for Peter.

The man eventually appears with a towel around his waist and his dirty clothes in his hand. He seems surprised to see Stiles on the bed but his expression quickly melts into a pleased smile.

“I see you’re eager to do this,” Peter praises Stiles as he drops his dirty clothes in a hamper. He then removes his towel, not embarrassed in the slightest, before pulling a new pair of jeans and underwear as well as t-shirt.

Stiles, unlike Peter, does feel a bit shy. As soon as Peter let go of his towel, he gets a full view of the man’s groin and then his ass as he turns around. Now, Stiles doesn’t think the exterior of a person defines who they are, so he never even cared about people’s appearances. He is, however, only human, and he can’t deny that Peter being as handsome and cut as a greek god is a nice bonus.

Peter dresses himself and doesn’t seem to think any of it. But then he faces Stiles and he has this knowing smirk on his face that makes Stiles gulp and blush.

“Are you ready to see what I got you?” Peter asks kindly, his voice at odd with his facial expression.

Stiles sucks noisily on his pacifier before nodding. He raises his arms towards Peter, making his desire clear. He might have refused to be picked up earlier, but now, he feels like just giving himself what he wants.

Peter quickly obliges and in mere seconds, Stiles finds himself perched on Peter’s hip. The man is really just holding him with his left arm, just under Stiles’ ass and thighs, while the other is simply resting on Stiles’ lower back for balance.

It’s surreal how strong Peter is. It’s clear it isn’t even hard for him to hold Stiles up and it kind of makes Stiles feel tingly. It’s a mix of emotions, really. Part of Stiles likes it because it makes him feel so small, young, vulnerable and safe. The other part is, uh, horny. Because it’s hot as fuck being manhandled like he weighs nothing. All those emotions mixed together is rather weird, in hindsight, and Stiles feels a bit confused by it, because feeling small and horny never sounded like a good mix to him before.

Stiles has no trouble letting his confusion go though. He knows that Peter is taking care of everything right now and he can just let go without any repercussion.

“Alright, baby,” Peter coos before planting a noisy kiss on Stiles’ cheek. It makes Stiles smile as he cuddles his bunny closer to himself. “Let’s go see what’s in those boxes.”

Peter walks them both to the living room and he expertly handles Stiles so that they can sit down on the carpet with Stiles between his legs. He pulls the first box closer but doesn’t open it yet.

“Now, I bought all of this last night,” Peter informs Stiles seriously, and the teen turns a bit to see Peter more clearly. “I want you to know that since we’re trying something new, we don’t have to jump into it head first, okay? We’re going to do this slowly. So I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to use everything I bought. We’re just testing waters for now, so if there is anything you don’t want at all, it’s perfectly fine. It can wait, or we can just get rid of it, do you understand?”

Stiles nods, and though he’s thankful for the explanation, he’s starting to feel a bit impatient.

Peter seems to notice how excited Stiles is about opening the box because he quickly opens the lid. From the angle they’re in, Stiles is unable to see the content, but then Peter tilts the box and Stiles is faced with a big pack of diapers.

This… is somehow unexpected. Stiles blushes furiously even though he knows some people that are in ageplay like those things. And what does he know? Maybe he’ll like it too but… Dear Lord, it still is kind of embarrassing.

Peter must catch his expression because he chuckles and takes the pack of diapers out of the box. “This is a bit too hardcore for right now, but maybe someday?”

Stiles turns to face Peter and the man actually looks like this the most normal thing ever. It also sounds like maybe  _ Peter _ would like for Stiles to use them. So… how can he really say no when the diapers are presented to him that way?

“Maybe…” Stiles agrees shyly.

Peter beams before looking into the box again. The man goes through the content with Stiles, the same with the four other boxes. It takes them about half an hour to unpack everything because Peter makes sure Stiles has the time to see each item properly.

Stiles is slightly overwhelmed, he has to admit. He hasn’t ever received so many gifts in his life, and while money isn’t everything, it still is a way for Peter to show his devotion for Stiles. And God, do these gifts show devotion.

They unbox plates, bowls, utensils, glasses and sippy cups made of sturdy plastic and sporting colorful images of various superheroes. There are soft blankets, pyjamas, onesies, shirts and pants, all in childish designs. Then, there are toys. So many, many toys. Going from toys that are for small babies to toys that are more appropriate for adults, like complex puzzles.

The last items pulled out of the boxes are five pacifiers. They’re unlike the one Stiles is sucking though, and he feels his eyes widen as he examines them. He plucks one pack out of Peter’s hand to look at the new pacifier more closely.

The object is red and has the image of a cute little wolf on the exterior. Stiles can see why Peter bought it and Stiles thinks this will become his favorite pacifier since it screams  _ Property of Peter Hale. _ It makes him feels special just for that, but the most interesting aspect is the sheer size of it.

It is huge.

Stiles looks at Peter with a frown on his face. Peter smiles down at him. “It’s pretty big, huh, sweetheart? It’s better for little boys like you. The pacifier you have in your mouth isn’t really good, it makes your muscles work a bit too hard to keep it where it’s supposed to be.”

Stiles looks down at the package in understanding. He tentatively sucks on his pacifier and has to admit that his mouth is getting a bit tired.

“Do you want to try this one?” Peter asks as he points to the package in Stiles hands.

“Yeah,” Stiles admits, feeling excited. He’s about to rip the plastic open, but Peter takes the package out of his hands to do it himself. The plastic easily rips in half, freeing the new pacifier, and Stiles feels his heart skip a beat.

Again, the show of strength makes Stiles feel tiny and cared for. It reinforces that Stiles doesn’t have to do everything himself, that he’s encouraged to lean on Peter for even the tiniest things.

“Thank you,” he mumbles around his pacifier, his cheeks reddening with how fuzzy this little thing is making him feel.

“A pleasure, baby boy,” Peter says sweetly. He leans in for a quick kiss on Stiles’ temple before standing up and pulling the teen in his arms. He settles Stiles over his hip, just like earlier, and walks out of the living room. “We’re just going to wash your new pacifier so that it isn’t icky.”

They step into the kitchen and Peter makes a beeline to the sink. With one hand holding Stiles up, he washes the new pacifier with the other. Peter fumbles a bit, trying to make sure the object is properly soaped up before rinsing it, but he doesn’t let go of his precious charge in his arm.

Peter barely has the new pacifier dry that Stiles eagerly takes the one in his mouth out. Peter chuckles as he puts the clean pacifier in Stiles mouth.

Stiles feels his eyes open in wonder as he sucks on the nipple. This is so much better than the one he stole from his aunt. This pacifier really fits his mouth, filling it comfortably. He also likes how it covers his lips more properly, like he has some sort of layer of protection on them.

It’s such a small thing. It should be insignificant, but Stiles can’t argue that this pacifier helps make him feel safer.

“Do you like it?” Peter asks as he looks at Stiles.

There is only one response to this, of course. Stiles nods vigorously and if his eyes are a bit shinier than they should be, Peter doesn’t mention it. He simply smiles at Stiles as he takes the old pacifier from the teen’s hand and leave it on the counter.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling. Now, was there anything you didn’t like from the boxes?”

Stiles looks back towards the living room and Peter seems to take that as a cue to bring them back and sit them down on the couch. Stiles looks at his gifts, all in messy piles around the living room.

He takes his pacifier out of his mouth to speak. “I… I like pretty much everything,” he admits slowly.

“But?”

Stiles hunches his shoulders, a bit embarrassed. He tries to push the emotion away though, because he knows Peter wants him to be honest. “I think you should maybe return a few of the more babyish toys. I’d like to keep one or two, but…”

He gets stuck there. He can’t bring himself to finish the thought, too scared he’ll sound ungrateful. Truth is, while he’s really excited to do some role playing with Peter, he knows he still has a very active mind. He needs to be entertained and Stiles just knows some of the toys will bore him. The complex puzzles, the science kits, the stuffed toys and the coloring books are very likely to be fun. But the rest of it?

Total boredom.

Thankfully, Peter seems to understand what Stiles isn’t saying because he nods and doesn’t push the teen to finish his sentence. Instead, he grabs one of the empty box towards them. “I’m very proud of you for being honest with me, baby boy. Now, how about we fill this box with the items you don’t want?”

Stiles smiles softly, Peter’s words making him warm inside. He stands up from Peter’s lap and makes his way to the pile of toys. Peter approaches him with the empty box in tow and lets Stiles go through the items.

There are eight toys that Stiles ends up throwing in the box. Another three, he hesitates over what to do with them but ends up keeping them. One of them is a rattle toy he decides to give a chance to because the shape of it reminds Stiles of an atom. It also looks like Stiles could fidget with it and that’s something he thinks he’s going to like. The other two are chewing rings and he figures that, with the amount of objects that end up in his mouth, those two toys will be useful.

“Is that all?” Peter asks when Stiles finally puts the three toys in the pile he’s keeping.

Stiles sucks on his pacifier, bringing himself some comfort and strength, before turning to face Peter. He nods his head, sure of himself.

Peter offers him a bright smile. “Alright, darling. Do you want to play with one of your new toys? I’ll just put away everything else and then I’ll come play with you, how does that sound?”

Stiles scratches his head before agreeing. There’s the small urge to help Peter, but Stiles is mostly excited about his gifts still. There’s one puzzle in particular he really wants to try and Stiles can’t pretend he isn’t over the moon about… about…  _ everything. _

Today is definitely the best day in Stiles’ life so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... That took me more time to write than I thought it would. Sorry for the wait! I have to say this chapter wasn't an easy one for me. I'm better at writing angst than pure fluff. Oh well! I still hope you liked it. If you feel like leaving a comment, don't be shy! It's always nice to hear from you guys! Your comments warm my heart.
> 
> Hoping you're all nice and safe wherever you all are!


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